


Of Vampires and Bones

by enchanted_nightingale



Series: Collection: Unfinished Stories [5]
Category: Bones (TV), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Demons, Gun Violence, Magic, Police Procedural, Unfinished and Discontinued, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-19
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchanted_nightingale/pseuds/enchanted_nightingale
Summary: Buffy has joined the FBI as a break from finding and training new slayers. She becomes Booth's partner and works with Brennan and her team when the supernatural knocks on her door once again.This story is 8 chapters long  and left unfinished.
Relationships: Angel/Buffy Summers, Angela Montenegro/Spike, Spike/Buffy Summers(mention)
Series: Collection: Unfinished Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783669
Kudos: 12





	1. First Case

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Bones  
> Timeline: After the end of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' / After Season one of 'Bones'  
> Pairs: None yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Buffy's first case and she has to take care of the minor vampire problem before her new colleagues get wind of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Booth sat in front of his superior, a frown on his face.

"But Brennan is my partner," he stressed.

"She's a Forensic Anthropologist, not a field agent, but your new partner is."

He handed him a file which Booth opened reluctantly. The agent gave a quick glance to the profile.

"Nice," he concluded.

"More than nice," his superior countered. "She is strong, fast, has excellent aim, a degree in psychology and wrote a paper on various torture devises and techniques."

Booth grimaced. "She seems so…"

"Girl next door, agent? Well, sweet Miss Summers has beaten to a pulp a gang leader, in front of his men and still walks around. They have not even tried to threaten her."

"That's odd," Booth commented.

"The girl is dangerous, that's why the two of you can make quite a pair on the field."

"She's barely twenty five!" Booth exclaimed as he paced up and down the lab in the Jeffersonian Institute.

"You already mentioned that," Brennan said without looking up from the bones she was examining.

Booth stopped pacing. "You have not heard a word I said, Bones."

"New partner, too young, female, annoying," Brennan recited. "And don't call me Bones!"

Booth rolled his eyes.

"You're missing the point Brennan," he began pacing again.

"I'm female, I may be past twenty five, but Zack is, and he is professional. I really don't understand why you make such a big deal out of it!" Brennan replied, still not bothering to look up from the skeleton remains before her. "There, blood on the inner side, looks like the victim died of internal bleeding."

"Bones, the guy died two centuries ago, he can wait some more," Booth finally snapped.

That remark actually made her look up. Booth saw her look and raised his hands in a 'no harm' gesture.

"Sorry, I was tired, irritated, I really don't know what got over me," Booth said hurriedly.

Brennan glared at him for several more minutes before going back to the body.

Angela, who had caught the last bit, approached them. She walked over to Booth with a wry smile.

"Do you have a death wish?" she asked him.

"I forgot, sorry," he defended.

"This definitely is Jonathon Brendan Smith," Brennan decided.

"Who is Jonathon Brendan Smith?" Booth asked.

"Some priest that was with a few nuns in the Amazon jungle, died by cannibals, the skeleton was preserved as a trophy and recently was rediscovered and sent to us," Angela replied.

Booth clapped his hands. "Great, case solved, can we get back to my problem?"

Brennan shook her head. "Wait until you meet her. Maybe you'll like her."

"New partner?" Angela was immediately interested.

"Some rookie," Booth snapped.

"Okay," Angela simply said and walked away.

"I have to go, I'm meeting 'wonder girl'," Booth said. "And you are coming with me."

"What? Why?" Brennan exclaimed.

"Do you have anything better to do?" Booth questioned.

"I have to authenticate a body that can possibly belong to an emperor from the Byzantium for the Metropolitan Museum."

"Well, tough, you're coming with me," Booth decided and pulled her along.

* * *

"She's late," Booth said again.

"It's only three minutes past the appointed time! Also it is expected from women to be at least five minutes late," Brennan said.

Booth gave her a look. "Am I to take that you have experience on that?"

"Well, Angela says so," Brennan replied.

Booth began pacing again.

"Say, Booth, is she short, blond and…vibrant?" Brennan asked.

"Why?" he demanded as he turned.

"She's young," Brennan agreed.

He saw what Brennan saw then. A petite, slim girl was walking towards them. She wore a cream colored suit that made her look sweet and younger. Her hair was caught in a high ponytail, a healthy tan on her face. That face looked shocked upon seeing them. Brennan thought she saw pain on it, but it was fleeting and quickly hidden behind a pleasant smile.

"Agent Booth, Doctor Brennan," the girl greeted.

"Are you Elizabeth Summers?" Booth asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Just call me Booth."

"You don't look a day older than seventeen," Brennan commented.

The blond agent faltered, but recovered fast and smiled. "Thank you. I am guessing this is a problem, my being so young I mean."

Neither of the older pair said anything.

"We have a case," Booth said finally. "It's at a dangerous neighborhood." He eyed the blond speculatively.

"So, Summers?" Brennan asked once they were back in the car. "Anything to do with Joyce Summers?"

The blond flinched. "My mother," she said reluctantly.

"Who is Joyce Summers?" Booth asked.

"She organized the art exhibition in New York about wooden sculptures of Amazonian tribes," Brennan replied.

"I remember that one," muttered the blonde with no enthusiasm.

"Not an art fan Summers?" Booth asked her.

"I just don't like wooden sculptures," she replied.

"But tribal art is so fascinating," Brennan argued.

"I found some of the statues gross," replied the blond and Booth chuckled.

"I like you," he told her.

Brennan looked sullen. "No one appreciates artifacts properly."

"I'm more into weapons, from any kind of period," replied the woman from the back seat.

"That's an odd preference," Brennan commented.

"Coming from a lady that picks bones for a living and knows how to kick ass professionally?" Buffy questioned.

Brennan was indignant and Booth laughed.

"Be careful, she's touchy about her bones," he warned.

"I was merely making an observation," the blond defended. "I actually admire your work doctor."

"Read the book?" Booth asked.

"I didn't know anything about a book."

Brennan cocked her head to the side. That prospect was not so bad after all, being known for her actual work and not her book. It was a novelty.

"Can I call you Elizabeth?" Brennan asked.

The blond made a face. "I never really liked that name. Most people just call me Buffy."

"Buffy?" Booth yelled from the front seat. "That's not a name."

"Sure it is. It actually makes an impression, people remember, comment…"

"Laugh," Booth added.

"I was three or so when I heard that in a movie," Buffy defended.

"What did your parents say?" Booth demanded.

She looked skeptical. "I think they were possibly drunk."

"See, now there's a logical explanation," Booth said. "Bones, you're all quiet."

"Why do you call her that?" Buffy asked.

"I've been asking him for months, but he won't say," Brennan complained. "And don't think about joining him."

"Nah, I was thinking calling you 'Doc'," Buffy replied.

"Hm, I like it," Brennan said.

"Of course you do," Booth stated. "You get a kick out of telling people you're a doctor."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do."

"You're going to make Buffy think I'm some kind of snob," Brennan complained.

"I can't have you two siding against me," Booth said. "Enough talk, we're here."

"This is not over," vowed Brennan.

* * *

They got out of the car and Brennan slipped her latex gloves on. She had one of the forensic team give one to Buffy.

"It may look bad," Booth warned.

They were shown to a warehouse. Most of the FBI and police personnel had cleared the area, only the forensic team remained inside.

Behind some crates they found the body. It was only a skeleton, the flesh red and rotting. The body was in metal chains, hanging from the ceiling.

Booth made a face at the view. Brennan approached without a comment or reaction. Buffy just stared at the body, familiarity slipping into her mind.

"Victim looks female, about 20-25 years of age," Brennan estimated with a quick look. "From her clothes, I'd say private school but…"

"That's in fashion lately, the skirt I mean," Buffy called out. "Popular in colleges."

Booth and Brennan looked at her.

"I like to stay up to date with fashion issues," Buffy defended. "Also, the cute outfit must have cost a small fortune."

"I can't make out anything else. We need to go to the lab," Brennan decided as she stood and began to take a look around the space for more evidence or any other clues.

"Looks like there was a party last night," Booth observed as they took a look around.

Buffy's face darkened as she looked around the warehouse as well. She set off towards the other end of the ware house, relying on her senses.

Booth saw her walk away from the crime scene and frowned. She hadn't cracked after five minutes, had she?

"Summers!" he yelled.

Brennan turned at the sound of his voice, as did several other people. She noticed that Buffy had walked a small distance away from them and kept going despite Booth's call. The new agent stopped suddenly after a while.

"Doc! There's a second present for you here!" Buffy called out.

From another spot, one of the forensic team called out.

"There's another body here as well!"

Back at the Jeffersonian, Brennan's team stared at the three bodies. They were all in similar condition, all victims female.

"How are we going to examine all three of them?" Zack asked.

"I need ID's," Booth said as he walked up the stairs to the secured location, after using his card. Buffy was right behind him.

"Who's the blond?" Hodgins asked.

"Buffy Summers, my new partner. Hodgins is the guy with the beard, Angela the nice lady and Zack," Booth said in a rush, missing the pout Zack had on his face when the agent did not elaborate on him. "Now about the bodies."

"I gave Angela the information Buffy gave me about the clothes of the first victim and it turns out she is Cathy Emmerson. She's been missing for a week. The victim Buffy found is Luisa Cameron, missing for ten days and the third woman, Marie Dubris, disappeared two days ago," Brennan started. "Also, the last two were found with not an ounce of blood within them. No visible marks on the bones, nothing."

Booth frowned. "And Emmerson?"

Brennan paused. "She had been tortured, brutally, but that was not what killed her."

"I'm going to call their families," Booth decided. "Bones?"

"I have my hands full here," she indicated the bodies.

"Summers, come on," he said and left.

Angela watched the two agents leave.

"Cute," she said to her friend. "Despite the weird name."

"Don't start. I like her."

"I'm just making conversation. You know, as a way to pass the time."

"Angela, the girl is fine," Brennan said. "She has stomach. She did not even flinch at the sight of the bodies."

"Great, another one. Why am I the only sane person here?" Angela said aloud.

* * *

"We are sorry for your loss," Booth repeated.

"I get it, geez!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Just to be safe; I hate surprises," he said as he opened the door to his office.

A couple were already there, waiting for them. Booth gave Buffy one last warning look.

"Mr. and Mrs. Emmerson," Booth began, gaining their complete attention.

Several hours later Booth watched the third victim's parents walk out of his office.

"It's the same story over and over again." He shook his head.

"Serial killer?" Buffy suggested.

"I hope not," he muttered. "I'm going back to the lab, check on Brennan. Coming?"

"I have to contact the girls' friends, see what they know."

Booth nodded and stood. "Good luck with that."

Once Buffy was on her own, she took out her cell phone.

"Summers here, is Lloyd there? Well get him. I'm coming over and he'd better have answers."

She closed the phone and left Booth's office. After a quick stop by her apartment to change into a pair of jeans she headed back to the area the victims were found set on getting some answers.

She had only recently arrived in Washington DC and had yet to properly unpack. Her house was a mess, but she liked it that way. Her clothes and shoes were the only things she had placed in her closet. She had brought her furniture from Europe but they were still in the basement.

'Oh, well, maybe on this weekend,' she thought confidently. She had postponed it for quite some time.

She had decided to move back to the States after losing five potentials in Berlin. She could no longer stand seeing them getting killed. The new slayers were too many and too careless. She and Faith, maybe a couple of the remaining SITs were the only ones with fighting experience or at least basic skill. She felt nauseous just thinking of sending the girls to patrol, to their likely death. Sure, they were centered in London, but once a batch was ready, the girls were sent all over the world, along with their new watchers.

She pondered over that for a while. They had rebuilt the Council, younger people were everywhere. The older watchers that had survived were appointed to training and running the library, nothing more. Giles did not trust them, nor did she, and she was second in command. They had built a sizable army of girls. The Council's wealth had helped quite a lot. All of them were on payroll, something Giles had decided and no one had refuted. The families were all aware of what went on with their girls, as she had demanded. It was compulsory for the girls to finish high school and they had nights off. The shocking thing was that Giles had suggested it.

'I don't want over a hundred girls sneaking out under my nose,' he had said to defend his decision but she had seen his smile at the girls' excitement.

She had moved to London after Rome, Paris and many other cities. She managed to stay for six months only when she became restless. It was Giles, again, that suggested she lived her own life.

Willow was happy in the school, using her knowledge to help the young slayers. She was the resident witch and had formed a Coven, teaching some of the watchers simple protective spells and potions she knew they might need.

Dawn wanted to become a watcher so she stayed at the school. She had decided that while looking at colleges in England. Giles, ever the father figure had decided she would attend Oxford and study to be a watcher on the side. Dawn had surprisingly not argued. Her sister had grown a lot.

Then there was Faith. Faith was the same. She fought beside the girls and trained. She was currently in China where there had been reports of at least three girls. Wood was with her, the two of them having got engaged in India during a mission. Buffy had been present and held the memory fondly. Faith had demanded that Wood would ask permission from Buffy since the senior slayer was practically family for her and Giles was a continent and some seas away.

Xander was in some spa in France, his eye had been bothering him again and she smiled as she remembered how he refused Willow giving him a magical eye. The witch had taken the idea from the Harry Potter books but Xander held his own.

'I like the pirate look, it's a chick magnet,' he had claimed only to be mocked by Dawn that the only chicks that would follow him would have actual feathers and lay eggs.

That was when she decided to return to her home country, but nowhere near Sunnydale or LA. She wanted new memories, a new life. She had considered joining the police but quickly balked at the idea. Willow had suggested the FBI as an alternative, so Buffy had dared to take the tests, go through the training and everything. It had surprised her she had managed to pass, especially since her record was not exactly clean, but her scores were excellent, especially the physicals.

She was a slayer nearly ten years now and she still got stronger. Faith had often teased her about it. Giles had been excited actually. She was the only vampire slayer to reach the ripe age of twenty five, despite having died twice, and there was no previous record. It was a new territory for him. She had keener senses now and her strength had improved as well. Most vampires and demons avoided crossing her path. Those who did were unfortunate to say the least. Nowadays she did not have the mood to play with them, just 'swish and kill', as Giles had told her years ago.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the bar came into view. She got out of her sports car, a silver sports BMW. Xander had escorted her for the buy and Dawn and Faith had laughed for days when they saw her drive. She had improved, if she could say so herself, but still had a long way to go from being a safe driver.

She shrugged it off and locked the car. She dismissed the looks she got from a few lesser demons that left the bar; they scurried away from her in seconds. She entered the place confidently. Lloyd was Willie's second cousin or something and the man knew not to mess with her. Dear old Willie had warned his cousin and the man had been well trained.

"Lloyd!" she called out as she approached the counter.

The man, a tall guy with long brown hair caught in a low ponytail, with yellow specs hanging from his nose, dressed in dark jeans and a bright orangey shirt and a leather vest. His eyes brightened when the blond entered, though many patrons inched towards the exits upon seeing her.

"Slayer!" he yelled louder than it was needed.

"Chill, I'm just here for a drink," she said.

The owner and the patrons visibly relaxed while the blond slipped into a seat. Lloyd was on his feet to serve her.

"How's Willie?" Buffy asked.

"Last I heard he was dating a Deyatona demon-lady," Lloyd said with a shrug.

"Well, he does need a woman in his life. He waited long enough," Buffy commented.

Lloyd nodded and handed her a glass of vodka. Buffy shot it down easily, earning an admiring look from Lloyd.

"So, Lloyd, any news about the latest killings?" she said in a pleasant voice.

The man groaned.

"Oh, come on! Would you like for me to hit you and pretend to torture you for info?" She paused to consider that scenario. “That actually worked with me and Willie."

"So I heard," Lloyd replied sullenly.

Buffy leaned closer expectantly.

"There's a new player in town," Lloyd admitted. "Some vampire named Gerard, barely a century old. He wants to become Angelus' successor." He gave her a pointed look.

The blond Slayer snorted.

"Where can I find him?" Buffy asked.

"He likes rap music, so you might find him at 'Stitch'."

"Thanks Lloyd!" Buffy smiled brightly and left a bill by her glass. "We'll be in touch."

Lloyd watched her leave and was able to breathe regularly once the blond was out of his place. The demons seemed to calm as well and that was all that mattered to him.

* * *

**Next Day:**

"What do you mean nothing?" Booth demanded.

Hodgins sighed and glared the FBI Agent. "Nothing. No insects, no micro-organisms or bacteria, nothing."

Brennan was frowning as well. "We are at a dead end." She sounded frustrated. "The victims have been obviously tortured using sharp, wooden objects and knives."

Booth and Angela flinched.

"His name is Gerard," Buffy said from the stairs.

The rest of them turned to stare at the blond. Booth went to get her.

"You found the killer?" Zack demanded. "How? None of the data points to the weapon or a connection with the victims."

"I asked around," Buffy replied cryptically.

"Gerard what?" Booth demanded.

"No last name. He hangs out at club 'Stitch," Buffy continued. "He arrived in the city last month. He left a trail of bodies in France, same method every time. He snatches girls, preferably brunettes, starves them, tortures them using wooden stakes and a butcher's knife."

Booth and Brennan stared at the blond quizzically

"How did you learn all that?" Booth was suspicious.

"I asked the wrong crowd," Buffy replied.

Brennan was shocked. Her crew did not fare any better.

"I thought you would speak to the friends of the girls," Booth asked Buffy.

She gave him a hard look. "Gerard is in the country illegally and he is not afraid of cops. He thinks death is beyond him and that he's simply an artist."

"The guy is insane," Hodgins deduced.

"You don't say?" Angela snapped.

"We are going to that club tonight, but we still need the murder weapon if he is going to trial," Booth told Buffy.

The blond smirked. "The warehouse next to the one we found the bodies."

Booth swore. He and Brennan set off.

"You're coming Summers!" Booth yelled.

They got to Booth's car and the male agent drove out of the parking lot at top speed.

"You better be right, Summers," Booth told her.

"Funny, I always pray I'm wrong," Buffy mumbled.

The two in the front heard her but did not comment.

They reached the warehouse an hour later. Booth got out of his car, gun in hand.

"Aren't you going to take out your gun?" Brennan asked.

"I don't really like those things," Buffy offered as she followed Booth.

She could not sense any vampires in the immediate area, which meant that Gerard and his friends had moved. She just hoped they had left enough behind for Booth to be satisfied. She did not really expect Booth to arrest him. That would be ridiculous. She would do the dirty job, without witnesses, again.

"No one," Booth declared. His voice echoed in the empty warehouse.

Brennan walked around the empty space, examining the dirty floor. Buffy stood to the side, watching the doctor poke something with a pen she pulled out of her pocket. A sad look crossed the Slayer's face.

"Booth, I found the weapon," Brennan announced.

Booth looked up and saw a wooden stake, covered in dried blood.

* * *

**That night:**

Buffy squeezed her body through the thick mass of dancers feeling conscious of the presence of vampires in the club and the general area. It was an awareness she had first noticed in Europe and was glad for it. Not that she did not feel them before, just that now she had a keener sense for finding them.

For the night she had chosen to forego a traditional FBI suit and was dressed in a short, red satin dress, a neon-like sign for vampires. She knew for a fact that they would take the bait. They always did. So she mingled with the crowd, danced a bit and waited.

On the first storey, Booth scowled at Buffy's dancing figure. Brennan shoved her elbow into his side.

"Stop glaring at her. She is just doing her job."

"No Bones, she's just a kid, playing with a psychotic killer."

"I read her file, Booth, she's good. It says she has been used for decoy too many times, knows self defense…"

"This is real life, not a movie," Booth snapped.

"That guy is…cute," Brennan said suddenly.

Booth looked at her sharply at the off-hand comment.

"Cute?" he repeated.

"From the cheeks I'd say definitely European," Brennan continued. "He could be our suspect."

Booth seemed to rethink the situation. "You think a suspect to three murders is cute?" he tried for none challenging.

"Definitely," Brennan replied as she went to follow Buffy as the blond was now on the move, pulling the man outside.

"Bones!" Booth yelled after her.

Buffy offered a fake smile to Gerard as he led her away from potential witnesses.

"So, what is your name cutie?" he asked.

"Elizabeth."

"Pretty."

Buffy batted her eyelashes while what she wanted was to smack herself on the head, repeatedly.

'Where the hell are you Booth? Great, an alley! Why are vampires so cliché all the time? I really miss Europe…'

Booth and Brennan made it to the alley in time to see Buffy being led away by their suspect.

"Do I get a gun?" Brennan asked her.

Booth gave her an incredulous look. She lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Don't give me that look. The guy is a serial killer."

"I trust you can take care of yourself," he told her as he picked up his pace. "FBI! You are surrounded!"

Gerard turned back to stare at Booth. He snorted once he saw the gun.

"Lady, get away from him!" Booth told Buffy.

The Slayer felt Gerard tighten his grip on her arm. It was a good thing that she was supernaturally strong.

"Don't think so, officer. Moi et Mademoiselle here are going to take a nice, long walk."

Buffy rolled her eyes. With strength that surprised her captor, she yanked her hand away and punched Gerard. The vampire was thrown against the wall and snarled at them in vamp face.

Buffy cursed inwardly. 'That idiot! Can't he keep his fangs to himself?'

Booth opened fire, not stopping to think on why the guy was like that. The bullets found their target, the head, and Gerard fell to the ground. Buffy managed to breathe easier. She knew that the vampire would not recover for a few more hours. He would be pronounced dead and the case would be closed.

"Nice shot," she told Booth.

The agent placed his gun in the holster and approached her.

"You okay?"

Buffy shrugged. "Never better."

"That was rather good. You are strong," Brennan commented.

Buffy opted to just smile politely.

"Why is his face like that?" Brennan went closer to get a better look.

"PCP," Buffy nodded sagely.

No one disputed her. After all she had spent years on the Hell mouth and Sunnydale was the capital of denial.

* * *

**Next day:**

Buffy walked casually in Booth's office. She gave a short tap on the door. He and Brennan looked up from their heated conversation, or argument as her hearing had informed her earlier.

"Good morning everyone!"

"Yeah," Booth muttered.

Brennan gave Buffy a welcoming smile. "Good morning." Then she turned to Booth. "Wasn't that polite?"

Buffy stifled a giggle that would probably be inappropriate.

"The body was stolen," Booth said.

Buffy faked confusion. "Body?"

"Gerard," Brennan explained.

"Oh. Oh!"

"Yeah." Booth squeezed his exercise ball tightly.

"That's bad, right?" Buffy looked thoughtful.

"The case is closed," Brennan replied. She looked troubled. "There were only ashes found in the room and bullets from Booth's gun, the same ones he fired at Gerard earlier."

"It just doesn't make sense," Booth threw the ball.

Buffy watched it bounce off the wall and caught it in mid air.

"Nothing ever does," she told him as she threw the ball back at him.

Lloyd groaned when Buffy entered his bar.

"I'm off duty!" she announced to him and the demonic clientele.

Lloyd motioned her to the bar.

"Vodka?" he asked her.

"Nah, make it a triple espresso."

"Long night ahead of you?"

"I must pay a visit at some friends at the local cemeteries."

Lloyd snorted and went to get her coffee.

"It's on the house," he told her as he set it down.

Buffy gave him a questioning look.

"Consider this as my welcome to you. We finally have a Slayer in our town." Then he left to serve a chaos demon.

Buffy smiled and took a sip.

* * *

**End of chapter one**


	2. Mummy's Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In her second case, Buffy meets an old Watcher and for once has to deal with humans, while at the same time she tries to make herself at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Buffy had been waiting for the weekend to come. She was supposed to be off duty and it was high time to unpack. She sat on the floor, going through the things she had brought with her. Her clothes and shoes, most of them, where already in her closets, save for the furniture and several boxes from Giles that had been delivered the day before.

The apartment was generally fine. It expanded on the top floor. The living room was rather large, four bedrooms, one for Dawn, a kitchen she rarely used, a training room and four bathrooms. Most rooms where in warm, earthy colors, but her bedroom was in maroon shades. Most furniture was generally in black wood or leather.

She was alone in the building, which was in her name, but owned by the Council. The rest of the floors were empty and ready for a possible visit from the Slayers in training or possibly someone that needed to hide. Giles had put his foot down on the rest watchers needed and demanded this for her.

She hit the sound system and rock music flooded the apartment. She began dancing while unpacking. She only paused in her task when she came across a framed picture. A smile crossed her face. It was one of her, Willow, Xander, Giles, Anya, Spike and Dawn.

She bit her lip and reached for the phone. The number came fast to her mind.

"Hello?" Willow's voice came from the other side of the Atlantic.

"Will?" Buffy was hesitant.

"Buffy! Oh, my goodness! I have missed you so much!"

"Same here, Will."

"How is Washington?"

"Sunny," Buffy replied.

"Sunny is good."

"It's raining again, isn't it?" Buffy stated.

"Yeah, and Giles prevented me from doing a simple spell."

Buffy could practically see her pouting. "Come on Will, here's not that great either. I am FBI now and a Slayer."

"Any cases?"

There was rustling and wood making noise so Buffy guessed that Willow was getting comfortable on the bed. Just as well. Their phones were enchanted. They could talk all they wanted and no one could listen into their conversations.

"Well, last week there was this guy, Gerard…"

"Human or vampire?"

"Vampire," Buffy replied and got back to telling Willow about her week.

* * *

Booth sauntered into Brennan's office in time to see her stick another post it on the panel behind her.

"New book?" he eagerly asked.

"Actually, it's a thesis on the identification on the bones of an Incan Mummy Princess," Temperance Brennan was eager to explain. She was about to divulge more information when she caught sight of her partner's face.

As usual, Booth had failed to hide his boredom or his impatience and that only meant that something was up.

"What is it?" Brennan asked, deciding to spare him for once.

"We got a case." He rubbed his hands together, which was her cue to frown.

"We are not leaving the state, are we?"

"No, relax Bones. But we do have to stop by Buffy's house," he told her as he handed her a coat.

Brennan stood. "About the body…"

Booth gave her a wide grin. "Ah, sorry Bones, but it's going to be a surprise."

"Don't call me Bones!" 

* * *

A while later they arrived in front of a large, red bricked apartment building with small French balconies and doors.

"I remember this place," Brennan commented. "My parents used to bring us here on New Year's Eve for dinner; a small restaurant was near the corner."

"It's the right address." Booth looked at his notebook and walked to the entrance. He rhythmically rang the bell. The door opened and an old lady poked her head out. "May I help you?"

"We are here to pick up Buffy Summers," Booth told her.

The lady opened the door a bit further for them to enter, but said nothing. They walked inside and the woman smiled warmly at them.

"Please, she lives on the top floor."

She pointed at the elevator and then disappeared down the hall. Booth and Brennan gave a look at the place around them. It looked like a hotel lobby. It had many antiques and several armors that stood in front of the elevator, like guards. It also looked like no one else was living there.

"After you," Booth gave Brennan a short curtsy.

"Victorian and Medieval art combined," Brennan commented once they entered the elevator.

"Nice," Booth said though he did not really pay any attention to her comments. He searched the panel and pressed number ten, the top floor.

It brought them to a small corridor and a heavy door. The bell push read 'Summers'. Booth pressed it and Brennan stopped him from pressing it again.

"What?" he demanded.

"It is uncalled for and childish," she scolded.

From inside Buffy's voice reached them. "The door is open!"

Booth pushed it open and stepped in. The first thing they saw was boxes, boxes and more boxes. Some of them were still closed, 'FRAGILE' stamped on the side. From a few open boxes they could see small statues peaking out. On top of one of them was a worn looking sword.

"Impressive!" Brennan exclaimed at the sight of it.

Even Booth admired it, at least for the rubies on the handle. His eyes then turned to a cross bolt that was displayed in a case by the wall.

"I just fin-Oh, it's you guys," Buffy appeared from a room.

"You're still unpacking?" Booth asked the obvious.

Buffy groaned. "They arrived two days ago, and I have barely managed to unpack my things. This is just awful. Another weekend ruined. God, I was looking forward to going shopping. Or just resting for that matter. Somebody up there must hate me."

Brennan was looking at the labels on the boxes. Most of them were books, a few were weapons and even less boxes had artifacts. Buffy caught her look. "A friend of mine sent them to me. He claimed he ran out of space." She snorted. "I'm planning payback soon enough."

"Need help?" Brennan offered. She remembered how difficult it was for her the continuous packing and unpacking whenever she had to move.

"Like crazy," Buffy replied. She gave her a hopeful look. "Can I bribe you with beer and Chinese?"

"Of course!" Booth answered. The idea was particularly appealing, even if it meant hauling boxes. "We can help, but after the case."

Buffy's shoulders slumped. "Case? Now we have a case?"

"I know the feeling," Booth sympathized with her.

* * *

"Male, approximately in his early twenties," Brennan decided as she examined the body fascinated. It was discovered by one of the cleaning ladies a day before the exhibition was open to the public. The body was severely damaged, almost no skin remaining on the bones, but the name tag indicated it was one of the museum employees. They were standing in the middle of an exhibition on Egyptian culture. At that department mostly mummies were on display. Booth was eyeing a mummy with a bewildered look on his face. Buffy just looked bored at being there.

"Not a museum fan?" Booth looked up from the display.

"The last time I was in one a classmate of mine was killed," Buffy recalled the Incan Mummy girl. Even now she was touchy about mummies and student exchange programs.

Booth had nothing to add to that.

"I'm finished here," Brennan announced. "The rest of my research requires lab tests."

Booth nodded and got ready to leave.

"Fascinating, a civilization that worships the dead," Brennan commented as she eyed the perfect samples of mummification all around her.

"Morbid and sick more like it," Booth commented. Bodies seldom made him antsy but mummies where another issue. They looked ready to walk. Some of them still had their clothes and such intact.

"Such a fine work." Brennan was impressed. "These mummies are perfect!"

Buffy caught sight of a female mummy as they were leaving. It was separate from the rest, in a more prominent position. She had swords laid at her feet and still had her jewelry on her, which was rather odd. Also, she was very well preserved. Her presence made her feel strange, but not like there was danger lurking around.

"A fine specimen." The curator, a man in his early sixties commented. His British inflection was thick and the tone rather familiar. Booth and Brennan looked up. Buffy continued looking at the display.

"She was found in 1899, near Luxor. She was buried under the temple of Anubis…" continued the British man.

"God of the Dead," Buffy whispered.

The curator nodded with a small smile.

"That's odd," Brennan commented.

"Not really. Aisisma, that was the girl's name, died in 60 B.C. and was a warrior in the services of the pharaoh. The tomb read that she battled the forces of darkness."

Buffy tensed. 'So I was right. That tingle…She was a Slayer.' She took another look at the mummified Slayer and her heart clenched. The girl had to have been murdered by a demon; a sad truth. She looked peaceful though and it made Buffy feel slightly better.

"Mr. Giles mentioned you would come Miss Summers," the curator told Buffy.

The blond actually looked at him at that comment. He looked exactly like…

"Wesley?"

The curator smiled kindly at her. "My name is Perseus Wyndam-Price," he told her. "Wesley is my nephew."

"Oh." Buffy was at a loss. The man was obviously a watcher. One of the old ones, one of the few survivors and one of the oldest families. It was unsettling to say the least. She never trusted another watcher, save for Giles; not even the new ones her mentor had trained. Too many bad memories from dealing with the Council. The man seemed to know about this, he had an understanding and compassionate look on his face.

"I have some books for you, dear. I hope your colleagues won't mind me stealing you away for a couple of minutes."

"Not at all," Brennan replied, still admiring the mummies, but the man had already pulled Buffy behind him.

"Creepy guy," Booth said.

Brennan shrugged and went back to the skeleton.

* * *

Buffy followed the watcher into his office, away from the exhibition.

"It's an honor to finally meet you, Miss Summers," he told her as he opened the door for her. "A real honor. There has not been a Slayer of your caliber in…well, all our recorded lore on Slayers."

Buffy shrugged. "I've had help."

"Ah, yes, so I heard. Here we are."

Buffy saw a large box.

"The Egyptian Scrolls of Ayameilsatur," the watcher proudly announced. At her blank look he sighed. "A series of prophesies and journals from the Dynasties of the Upper New Kingdom."

"Better," Buffy nodded.

"You might need to lend a hand." He sheepishly pointed at the box.

Buffy smiled and took the books. They were heavy, but she was a Slayer.

"Why do you not give them to Giles?" she could not help but wonder.

"They were recovered with Aisisma." The watcher took his glasses off and polished the lenses. "I had to hide them and…well, smuggle them in."

Buffy looked amused. "Living on the wild side?" At his blush she laughed.

He laughed as well. "The greater good. Also, these belong to the girls and you. It's part of your legacy."

"Thank you, sir. But about Aisisma…"

"She will be transported to the British Museum after the end of the exhibition. After that the Council will retrieve her."

Buffy beamed at him.

"Now go, dear. Your partners must be waiting for you."

"Thank you mister Price."

"A pleasure and an honor, Miss Summers."

* * *

Buffy left his office with a contented expression and soon was coming down the stairs of the museum. Booth's car was parked in front of the entrance, he and Brennan leaning on the car expectantly.

"What took you so long?" Booth demanded.

Buffy eyed the box she was holding. She eased it in the back seat of his car.

"Hey!" Booth began to protest. "Watch the interior."

"You should have let me take my car," she spoke right back.

"Fine," he muttered and got into the driver's seat.

Brennan turned to look at Buffy. "You know the most unusual people."

"The curator? First time I saw him. He knows my high school librarian," Buffy replied.

"More books?" Booth asked.

"Those I don't mind," Buffy told him.

They arrived at the Jeffersonian soon and Brennan went straight for her office. Angela approached the two agents.

"What's the new case, nothing too gross, please?"

Buffy chuckled. "Sorry."

Angela groaned.

"But Buffy is buying us beer and Chinese if we help her unpack." Booth told Angela.

"Really?" Angela was already making plans.

"Case first," Booth reminded her as he went to find Brennan.

"Spoilsport," the two women said at once. 

* * *

"So, he was shot," Hodgins said.

"The bullet was fragmented before it hit the victim," Zack insisted. "The impact and imprint of the bullet is clear at that."

"Zack, Hodgins, stop this!" Brennan yelled. "You're acting completely unprofessionally!"

Behind her Angela, Booth and Buffy snickered. Brennan threw them a sharp glare.

"So, murder or accident?" Booth asked.

"Hard to decide," Brennan sighed. "I need to run some more tests."

Buffy's cell phone rang. A loud beat travelled around the lab making every person there look up.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly and hurried to answer. "Summers."

Her eyes widened at the voice that was heard loudly enough.

_ "What on earth were you doing?" _

The voice was booming and the people around her were alarmed. The British voice was angry and heard clearly in the lab. Booth was looking rather amused while Brennan's team was intrigued.

"Giles?" Buffy was hesitant. He rarely called this early for her. It must have been too late in the night for him, yet he called her, so this must have been important. She just hoped this was not about another apocalypse.

_ "No, the bloody pope!" _

Buffy cringed, but decided to go on the offence. "Nice to hear you as well. I got the books, thanks."

_ "Is that the reason why I have this despicable man in my office?" _

The people around Buffy saw her impish smile.

"Thought you might like it."

_ "Not funny." _

"Then stop sending me all these books! I can’t so much as step into my apartment. Next time I'm recruiting Dawn to mess up your files. And isn't it night over there?"

_ "I keep late hours." _

"Right." Buffy had the same habit and it was much more pronounced nowadays. "Well, say hi from me to everyone," Buffy told him. "And cut back on those espressos. What happened to your relationship with tea?"

_ "I met you and everything went down hill." _

Buffy chuckled as she turned the phone off. "Sorry, but it was from overseas." She met many amused faces.

"Back to work," Brennan commanded.

* * *

Buffy patrolled the cemetery closest to her home that night. The obituaries had mentioned there were three funerals that night. It would make it a great target practice. So she sat against the mausoleum, twirling the stake in her hand.

"Come out guys! I haven't got all night! Dead people these days…" she muttered.

A hand came out of the fresh dirt right then.

"Finally!" She hopped off the tomb and stood over the newly risen vampire. The fledgling came out of the ground and Buffy threw some kicks and punches, but she met no resistance. Finally, she got bored and staked him. She did the same with the other two, but her mood did not improve.

Disappointed she went to Lloyd's bar.

"Slow night?" he said knowingly.

"Vampires are no fun these days," she muttered.

He snorted. "What can I get you?"

"Tea with some rum," Buffy told him.

"Coming right up," Lloyd told her.

As Buffy waited, a demon burst inside. Green blood oozed out of his cuts and pooled at his feet. The patrons stood, Buffy with them.

"What happened?" Lloyd asked.

"D-demon-," he stuttered.

"We are demons," one of the local demons replied.

"Hunters!" the other gasped.

"Demon hunters?" Buffy demanded. She was alarmed and for a good reason. Most demon hunters had no basic knowledge of the demons they hunted. Most times they killed peaceful demons and it caused a stir in the underworld. She mostly threatened them to leave, but there were times that she had to do more than that. She frowned at the memory.

The demon nodded.

"Where?" she pressed.

"Museum," he said before collapsing.

"Lloyd, rain check!" Buffy called out before running out into the streets again.

She had a fairly good idea which museum that was. She got back to the Egyptian Exhibition.

'The door is open. Surprise, surprise,' she thought.

She ran inside. The lights were off, but she could see just fine. She headed to Price's office having a bad feeling about the whole situation. The first thing she registered was the familiar scent of blood.

'God no!'

She rushed inside and saw the familiar face of Perseus Wyndham-Pryce staring back at her.

She clenched her fists tightly and turned away from the room. She now focused all her senses into locating any intruders. As she continued, she found two security guards dead, both of them close to the murder scene she had been present at earlier that day.

Dread filled her as she stepped inside the room.

The glass caskets were shattered, jewelry was missing, but most damage was done to cases that held scrolls and books. The mummies were intact and she rushed to Aisisma just to make sure. The Slayer was where she was left. The casket was smashed, but none of the ornaments was missing.

Buffy frowned. Something was not right there and she wanted nothing more than to find out, but she was more than a Slayer.

She took out her cell phone and called Booth.

"Booth? It's Buffy Summers…" A tired sigh. "I know what time it is…No, I'm not joking…Listen! I'm at the museum. I just found three bodies and the room was vandalized." She paused as she listened to him. "I'll wait, hurry."

She pocketed her cell phone and decided to do another quick run for intruders before returning to wait by Aisisma’s body.

* * *

Booth found her there. Brennan and Zack were right behind him with a few police and FBI forensic members following. There were gasps as they found the bodies on their way to the room. They were yawning, Booth and Zack, when they met her.

"Hey," Brennan greeted Buffy.

"Pryce is in his office," Buffy told them.

"The third body?" Zack asked.

Booth glared at him, but Zack was oblivious. Buffy just shrugged.

"There was struggle," Brennan observed from the scene. "Two attackers at least."

"Anything missing?" Booth asked.

"I called you, not the curators or anyone else," Buffy replied.

"How did you happen to come here at…Three o'clock in the night?" Booth was curious.

"The door was unlocked," Buffy replied. At Booth's look she rolled her eyes. "I was tipped off, don't ask."

"At three o'clock in the morning?" Zack demanded.

Buffy shrugged.

"Can I at least have a name?" Booth asked her.

"He won't say anything. I don't know if he survived the night." Buffy frowned.

"What?" they all asked her.

"Can I go now? I have to inform Pryce's family."

"Why you?" Brennan asked.

"I know the family, or knew his nephew. Most of them were killed over a year ago." Buffy felt exhausted. "I really should tell Giles too. Pryce was his teacher in college."

She stood and left them alone.

Brennan looked disappointed.

"What?" Booth asked.

"I can't work with bodies that have flesh on them. I specialize in bones."

Booth had an odd expression on his face at her comment, something between amusement and exasperation.

* * *

Later that day, after the sun had risen, Brennan entered Booth's office. He was on the phone and looked rather excited. She took a seat and waited.

"…Thank you so much sir." Booth hung up.

"Do you have the autopsy?" Brennan asked. "Lab results?"

"Even better. Pryce smuggled that girl-mummy out of Egypt, with blessings from the local police. He also brought a crate with him, but none of the items from it are missing."

Brennan frowned. "Relic hunters?" she guessed.

"Not quite. Price has promised Aisa-"

"Aisisma," Brennan corrected.

"Whatever, he has promised her to the British museum, but the museum says that it will actually be sent to the Council."

Brennan frowned. "I know that name."

"What?"

"The Council." She sat straighter. "Goodman has more on them."

Booth stood. "Come on, Bones!" he called out, already half way to the door.

* * *

"Yes, the Council," Goodman made a face.

"Bon-Brennan said you knew them," Booth told him.

"I was a newly appointed archaeologist when I first heard about them," Goodman remembered. "We were in an area that used to be Ancient Sumeria. Not to bore you with details, we found several scrolls. They weren't in best condition, but they were impressive. Written in a Sumerian dialect, older than any I had ever seen. We could not decode it. Then a man came. He was from England he said, his accent was thick," Goodman shook his head. "He told the archaeologist in charge that all research was to be stopped. He took those scrolls and a day later they circled the site and had their team searching where we left off. The found another scroll like the ones we found, after that they handed the artifacts, even pure gold, to us and left."

Booth frowned. "That's odd, right?"

"Yes," Goodman agreed. "And Pryce was that man's name."

Booth and Brennan looked up.

"So, he's dead," Goodman said.

The duo nodded.

"And he gave Buffy some books," Brennan remembered.

Booth and Goodman stared at her.

"Maybe smuggled items," Goodman guessed.

"She has ties with England," Booth pointed out.

"Maybe she was entrusted with their keeping," Goodman said. "She is a federal agent."

"We should ask her," Brennan suggested.

"Or, we should contact that Giles and whoever of Price's relatives we can find," Booth said instead as they stood. He paused at the door to turn back to Goodman. "We might need your help. Care to come to the crime scene?"

Goodman was only too willing.

They all got into Booth's car. Goodman was uncomfortable in the back seat, but wisely held his tongue.

"Great," Booth answered his cell phone. "Booth."

He remained silent for a long time. Once he closed it Brennan fired questions at him. "What's going on?"

"Must be a new record; It took you what, two seconds to ask?"

"Answer my question," she pressed.

"No items were stolen from the exhibition. The cameras caught them looking at the manuscripts."

"Interesting," said Goodman.

"Very. Also, Perseus Pryce has a nephew that works in a law firm in LA, a cousin in England, but she's ninety six years old. Other living relatives are in Britain. Get this; every member of the family that worked for the Council was killed in an explosion two years ago. The new Council is led by a Rupert Giles and an Elizabeth Anne Summers."

"Buffy?" Brennan was surprised.

"Buffy. It turns out that it is a school for 'gifted' girls, whatever that means," Booth continued. "Pryce called a number in England an hour before he died, but we were unable to trace it."

"I must meet this Buffy," Goodman decided.

"You will. She is waiting for us at the museum," Booth informed them.

He turned the wheel and the rest of the walk was in silence.

* * *

Buffy was nervous as she stood in the office. The smell of blood was disturbing.

"Buffy!"

She flinched at Booth's voice. It was all too familiar, but chose to ignore it.

"Had enough sleep?" Booth asked her.

"I spent hours talking to people I have never met or have years of seeing." She took another sip of her coffee. The smell was strong.

"Espresso?" Booth asked.

"Triple," Buffy replied.

"Well, meet doctor Goodman, an archaeologist and head of the Jeffersonian," Booth introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Goodman told her in a pleasant voice.

"Likewise," Buffy replied mostly out of habit and because manners were needed. She never really knew what was in store for her. Fates were a bit perverted when her name was on the table. So she smiled and waited to be judged.

They told her what they had found and waited for her reaction.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Oh?" Booth repeated.

"We do run a private school," Buffy told them slowly. "Giles is practically a father to me and my friends, especially since my mother died. Pryce mentioned the books were illegal, but those I got are property of the Council, stolen from our library."

Goodman was interested. She took in his look, so much like Giles and the rest of the Watchers' that she actually chuckled. "You seem to like mystery, mister Goodman," she said.

"I'm an archaeologist; mystery is what makes me tick," he replied. "So, stolen?"

Buffy shrugged. "Since World War One actually. I'm fuzzy on the details since I was not paying attention; history is really not my thing."

At that Booth snorted, but Buffy continued. "I was informed that there is a group of relic hunters in the city. They are attacking anyone with knowledge of the manuscripts."

"So, you're in danger," Booth deduced.

"And the manuscripts," Goodman reminded.

Buffy smiled at his comment even as Booth rolled his eyes at the antics of the scholar.

"Not really. My house is rather safe from any kind of attack. I'm more worried about Pryce's living relatives," Buffy tried to reassure them.

"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce," Booth offered. He had memorized the name.

"Quite. That law firm might take over the investigation," Buffy sighed. "And protect him, but he has to be informed."

"That's rich," Goodman said in a tone that bordered on a snort.

"He is an executive of 'Wolfram and Heart'," Buffy replied reluctantly. She did not know whether or not they had previous experience with the law firm form Hell.

"No way!" Booth exclaimed.

Just like that she realized that they had.

'Too late to ask for miracles,' Buffy thought wryly.

"It's just a law firm," Brennan said rather confused.

Goodman frowned. "It's more than a law firm. They can even influence the government."

"That sounds like one of Hodgins conspiracy theories," Brennan scoffed.

"Actually, this one is valid. That black out in LA a year ago?" Booth told Brennan. "It was a cover up. LA was like a war zone but nothing ever leaked to the press. As for the law firm, their building was nearly destroyed, most executives murdered, and suddenly everything was peachy and a new boss appeared."

Buffy frowned. It was alarming how well-informed Booth sounded.

"So, what happened in LA?" Brennan asked.

"Terrorists," Buffy replied easily. "But it would do us no good to be revealed."

The other three stared at her; Booth more suspiciously than the others.

"I was there towards the end," Buffy offered.

"You get around alright," Booth told her.

"Could I see the manuscripts?" Goodman asked.

Buffy grimaced. "I have to check with Giles first. Then I have to find the right box," she added the last part to herself.

Goodman decided not to press the matter.

* * *

That night Buffy was on the phone with Giles. Her mentor was truly worried. The ghost of the old lady was gliding all over the floor, almost dancing to a Sinatra song.

"I'll send someone for them, but not before Thanksgiving," he informed her. "We had an incident in Venice a week ago. Three girls were killed."

Buffy grimaced. "How?" she asked.

"We sent five of them to take care of a nest, no more than ten vampires. The girls were well trained, but the vampires got to the streets and managed to divide them."

Buffy nodded grimly.

"I'm up against humans," she told him.

"Be careful," he warned her, his voice hinting his worry.

"I will," she promised.

"Now, are you alright? Have you settled yet?" Giles was concerned.

Buffy smiled. "Yes, unless you send me more boxes."

Giles chuckled. "Sorry about that."

"Right…" Buffy did not buy it for a second.

"Is that Sinatra I'm listening?" Giles asked her.

"Yeah, the resident ghost is having a party. I really don't know how Cordelia managed to stay sane."

"You said she is helpful."

"She is. Especially with that spell from Willow. She can become corporeal at a wish."

"Oh, yes. I remember."

She heard commotion and Giles sigh.

"Well, I better leave you to deal with your charges," she said.

"Those are the Watchers in Training," he scowled.

Buffy laughed as they said their goodbyes.

* * *

Two days later Buffy opened the door to her house for Goodman, Brennan and Booth.

"Nice," Goodman commented at the boxes.

"Yeah well, we're looking for a box with 'FRAGILE' stamped over it," Buffy informed them. "Help yourselves."

They all grabbed an end and began searching.

Most of the boxes held books, several of which earned the admiration of Goodman and Brennan alike.

"Wow," Brennan gasped. She held back a thin manuscript made of papyrus and bound by leather. "It's a mummification manual."

Booth and Buffy did not share her excitement.

"Who collects these things?" Booth muttered.

Buffy chose not to answer.

"And it has pictures too!" That was Goodman.

"It's not hieroglyphics," Brennan commented.

Buffy snatched the book before they could question it further. They resumed their research for several more hours until Booth spoke up.

"Guys!"

With that one word the rest were at his side. He indicated a box. The interior was linen and each of the five pieces of parchment was in a special anti-bacteria case. Buffy shuddered as she viewed them. It made her want to destroy them. She took a step back and noticed that the other three were not less affected.

Goodman made to touch it but Buffy stopped him. "You forgot these," she presented him a pair of rubber gloves.

He took them and the proceeded to inspect them. "They are in perfect condition," he concluded. "They look authentic, but without a carbon test I can't be sure. Also, I have no idea what language they are in."

"What?" Brennan asked.

"They are probably in a code," Buffy suggested.

"It could be, yes," Goodman agreed. "There's no way for me to take them to the Jeffersonian, is there?"

"Sorry," Buffy shook her head. "I'm just the safe keeper."

Goodman nodded, half expecting it.

"Okay, are we done here? This is worse than a museum," Booth commented.

"You should see the house in Europe," Buffy smiled. "It's like walking in the Louvre."

Seeing how they were finished, Buffy escorted them to the door. As the door closed behind him, Booth noticed a green convertible parked at the far side of the road but with ample view of the building.

"Booth?" Brennan asked. "Something wrong?"

"You could say that. Get into the car," he ordered.

Goodman was alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"We're being watched." Was the reply from the Agent as he took out his cell phone and called his partner.

* * *

Angela sat patiently in Brennan's office.

"And Buffy?" she asked.

"She's with Booth at the Bureau," her friend replied. "She refused any help, says her house is safe enough from burglars and the sort."

"Still, she must be a bit shaken."

"I guess…She is not all that expressive."

Goodman knocked on the door.

"What's wrong?" the two women said at once.

"They attempted to break into Miss Summers' residence," he informed them.

"They took the manuscripts?" Angela asked.

"Attempted," Goodman corrected. "They ran out of there like the devil was after them."

Raising an eyebrow, Brennan followed him to the lab area. Buffy and Both were already there, Zack and Hodgins waiting to see the tape. Buffy was fidgeting and her eyes were looking anywhere but the screen.

"There they are," Booth said pointing to three hooded figures.

"And dressed in black, how very unique," Hodgins commented.

Booth and Brennan both glared at him and he shut up.

"They go in," Angela announced.

Booth put it in fast forward mode, skipping forward for at least ten minutes before stopping. They waited a few more minutes before the front door was opened and the trio rushed out. The masks were gone, but their faces were not very clear. What was undisputable was the way they were shaking and limping away from the building, looking over their shoulders.

"That was weird," Brennan commented.

"To say the least," Angela commented.

"What kind of security do you have?" Booth turned to Buffy rather impressed.

"I don't know," she replied, innocently enough. "Giles had a security company set it up. I could ask him, but it is probably security alarms and the like."

"It won't be necessary," Booth said. "Angela, anything on the identities?"

"I could scan it and find out their faces," Angela suggested.

"Do that," Brennan said. "I need to get back to the bodies."

Buffy stared as Angela played the tape again, this time entering different parameters, in order to find the faces.

"Won't your landlady be in trouble?" Booth asked Buffy suddenly.

She tensed for a second. "Not really."

"That nice old lady?" Brennan asked. "They did not hurt her, did they?"

"Doubt they could. I gave her the week off." Buffy lied again. She hated it but there was no other way. Secrecy was everything. She saw them stare slightly before shrugging it off. If she acted normal then no one would think otherwise.

"Found enough evidence. I'm going to run them through the database and see who matches them," Angela announced about a quarter hour later.

Brennan and Booth stood behind her expectantly, Buffy to the side.

"Nathaniel Wordrig, Michael Dawson, Jack Bright," Angela said as she printed each of the portraits.

Booth leaned closer, reading their records.

"They are a gang. Only Dawson has done time in jail, two years for smuggling. Charged many times for theft, breaking and entering, blackmails," Booth read.

"They were suspects for Luke Brandon's murder," Brennan read.

"Who's Luke Brandon?" Angela and Booth asked.

"An old teacher in the archaeological department of the Jeffersonian," Brennan said. "He was found dead in his study a bit over two years ago. His study was a mess but nothing was found missing. They were seen arguing with him a day before his death."

"Well, I say we have enough evidence," Booth decided. He took out his cell phone and dialed someone from his office. "It's Booth. I need the latest address for Michael Dawson, Jack Bright and Nathaniel Wordrig."

"He looks sexy when he does that," Angela decided as she gazed at Booth. Buffy smiled at her comment and even more when Brennan looked rather thoughtful, like she was considering this.

"Alright there doc?" she asked.

"I got the address, let's go," Booth said.

* * *

"This is…interesting," Brennan commented once Booth parked outside a warehouse.

"Why oh why does it always have to be a warehouse?" Buffy muttered grudgingly.

"Well, when you see them ask them," Booth told her. He took out his gun and motioned the two women to move behind him. Buffy got out her gun with a dramatic sigh.

"You really don't like guns," Brennan commented.

"I was shot once. Hated it," Buffy explained.

"Will you two be quiet?" Booth hissed.

"Sorry," the pair replied.

They gave ample warning, but no one answered. They entered, guns at the ready, but the large warehouse was empty. There were three empty cots, a table and several junk, like torn tires, metal scraps and plastic bags.

Buffy tried to sense anyone's presence but failed.

"Looks like we're late," Brennan commented.

Booth moved forward towards the table. "Shit," he said after a while.

"What?" Buffy moved closer.

He showed them the picture of a rather familiar mummy.

"Aisisma," Buffy said.

Buffy grimaced at the vest she wore. Sure, it was for her protection, but it was very uncomfortable. She saw Brennan across from her.

"You get used to it after a while," the older woman told her.

"We're ready," Booth said. "One of the team saw them approach the room."

"Do I really have to wait here?" Brennan all but whined.

"Yes!" Booth stressed. "You should not even be here from the beginning."

"Fine," Brennan replied.

Buffy followed Booth and they entered the now familiar museum. They headed for the mummy exhibit. Booth took one route, Buffy the other.

"…get the fucking mummy!"

"I'm not! David is in the hospital! He tried to take the jewelry and he got zapped."

"He just had a weak heart."

"He's mumbling 'bout warriors! The mummy is cursed!"

"Shut it the both of you!" a third man said.

Buffy noticed Booth and a few other men closing in on the targets. She stepped forward and hid, waiting. From the spot she could see the three men, hoods on, arguing over Aisisma's body.

"Fine!" one of them yelled.

To Buffy's horror, he got out a lighter and dropped it in the case after lighting it.

"Don't move!" Booth and several ops team members came out, guns pointed their way. Buffy remained hidden.

The three men started and ducked just as bullets were fired their way.

"Watch the mummy," Buffy prayed to whoever would hear her.

One of the thugs saw her as he crawled, in an attempt to get away. As their eyes locked, he seemed to recognize her. Buffy pointed her gun at him, but he dashed to out of the room. She shot a bullet; getting the weapon squarely and making him drop it in surprise. But he kept on running. With a curse, the Slayer followed him. Behind her there was a sequence of firing, from both parties, but she kept running.

Turning at a corner a leg kicked her. It did not hurt her much, but the surprise threw her a step back.

"You are that bitch."

"And who are you? Dawson, Bright or Wordrig?" Buffy demanded.

"You think you're smart lady?"

"I am told so," Buffy replied calmly.

"I'm out of here. But I will destroy that thing."

"The mummy."

"Whatever!" the man exploded. "That thing is cursed! David is rotting! He tried to touch that thing and he was rotting! That isn't normal! And the boy that took his place took one look at her and started running. No, that thing is evil…"

"What did Pryce do?" Buffy demanded.

"We brought the thing for the show here. And those paper things. He paid double for those; we figured they were worth something. And then we heard him going on with one of those English men of his about the dead girl. How she was worth more than gold and how he would give her to them."

Buffy listened on patiently. It was obvious that Aisisma carried a curse. It was meant to protect the body from humans and demons alike. She was willing to bet that demon at Lloyd's bar was like a replacement for this 'David' guy. She made a mental note to take care of him later, but first the man before her.

"You can't escape," Buffy told him, her voice calm and firm.

With a snort he pulled out a swish knife and attacked her. Buffy side stepped him easily, grabbed his hand and kicked him with the necessary amount of strength to wind him and make him loose the weapon.

"Bitch!"

"You already said that," Buffy told him lightly.

He charged again and Buffy grabbed him again, this time using all her strength. The man was scared when he realized his feet were not touching the ground. Before he could go into hysterics or anything, she threw him against the wall and he was out cold. Then she proceeded to cuff him.

"Summers! Get him!" Booth yelled as another ran past her, the agent after him.

She abandoned the unconscious guy and along with Booth, followed the second criminal. Unable to run at her fullest potential, she lost him.

"Damn!" Booth yelled.

"He's going back to the exhibition room," Buffy realized.

"What for?" Booth asked.

"The mummy. He wants to destroy Aisisma."

"Let's go," Booth said as they starting running back from where they came from.

Buffy was cursing inwardly. She really wanted to hit that guy, but it was dangerous with Booth around. They arrived at the room in time to see a lighter being dropped in the case.

"Too late," Buffy muttered. Her chest felt weird as she watched the linens catch fire.

It seemed that her partner was more level headed since Booth had his weapon ready and fired in the air. The man just collapsed on the floor in hysterics. Booth was hesitant to lower his gun as the two approached the fallen man. He did not pay attention to them though. He was just pointing at the body that was up in flames.

"That will take care of it," he chuckled. "Did you see? Ha! No curse! Those idiots ruined everything, bunch of cowards they were! See, no curse."

Booth motioned to Buffy to cuff the guy. She did so. As soon as the handcuffs were in place the man jerked back and started screaming.

"What the hell?" Booth exclaimed at the man at his feet.

But Buffy was not paying attention to either of them. Straight ahead the fire was slowly being put out. Booth turned and saw the flames and the smoke disappear into thin air. In no time the mummy was exactly as it was before it was set on fire and Booth could only blink at this. Buffy had seen weirder things so she did not comment on it. It worked for her and she was not about to argue.

A loud scream cut through the silence.

"Help me!"

Buffy stared at the man whose arms she still had a firm hold on.

"My skin! It burns!"

The screams grew louder as he kept asking for help, but neither agent could actually help him. They saw nothing wrong with his face or his clothes. Even Buffy could not see anything wrong, even though she knew there was something there.

Booth pulled the man up, but he kept screaming and crying. A few of their colleagues came in and for the life of them couldn't see anything wrong with him. Buffy let go and just watched as he was driven away.

Booth hovered somewhere behind her.

"Buffy," he began unsure of how to phrase it.

"Yes?" she asked calmly.

"Nothing." He just walked away.

Buffy waited a bit. 'Yup, denial at its strongest,' she mused.

"Bye, girl," she called out to the mummy. This time she felt the familiar Slayer strength come from the body and she walked away with a smile on her face.

* * *

Buffy collapsed with a groan on her couch. A beer bottle was shoved in her hand, courtesy of Hodgins. Angela offered a plate with a slice of pizza from one of the boxes they had ordered. Brennan occupied another couch with Booth and Zack sat on a very large cushion by the fireplace.

"I can't walk anymore," Buffy complained.

"You sure had a lot of boxes," Zack commented. He had been the one to put away the various books and CDs and he had had an argument with Hodgins on how to categorize them. Buffy still tried not to laugh at the memory. Zack had insisted on alphabetical order, while Hodgins had insisted on gender, which had been rather hilarious.

"You should have seen them during Christmas," Booth had told her and continued on telling her about the Secret-Santa incident.

"At least it's finally ready," Buffy sighed as she took a look around the spacious living room. The boxes were long gone. The red carpet was unrolled by the guys. Angela had a fun time telling them where to put the couches. Buffy and Brennan had the paintings and the various artifacts covered. It was past seven when they fell exhausted onto the couches and Buffy ordered their dinner.

Hodgins swallowed a mouthful of food and cleared it down with a sip from his beer. "Did you read the paper today?" he asked.

A chorus of 'no's followed.

"Why? What happened?" Angela asked.

"That Egyptian Exhibition finally opened," Hodgins replied.

Booth and Buffy looked up sharply. Buffy firmly avoided looking at Booth.

"Really?" Buffy pretended to be interested.

"Yeah, 'The curse of the mummy' they called it," Hodgins said.

"Real original," Angela snorted.

"Yeah, well, after your guy died kicking and screaming and one of those vultures saw it, they decided to take us all on a stroll through the early 1900s," Hodgins muttered.

"It was cool though," Zack sighed. "Mummies and tombs and hidden treasures." He sighed again dreamily.

"When I was little, I played Cleopatra and Marc Antony," Angela mused.

"And the rest of us just settled for the doctor," Hodgins teased.

Angela hit him with a pillow.

"I get it! Doctor! It was funny," Zack exclaimed then.

The others gave him funny looks and an indulgent smile in Booth's case. Buffy reached out and patted his shoulder.

"Well, I was into 'Indiana Jones' when I was a kid," Booth replied.

"I can't imagine you dug your back yard and pulled out junk you had previously stashed there," Hodgins told him.

"Indi was kinda cool," Zack muttered.

"And sexy," Angela winked at Booth.

"Too good for my tastes," Buffy muttered.

"You go for the bad boy type?" Hodgins gave her a speculative look. Buffy shrugged.

"Seriously now," Brennan said as she sat up, "Wouldn't it be great if the mummies could actually come to life? The secrets they could tell…"

"Dead guys walking," Booth muttered and shook his head. "The living alone bring me enough trouble as it is."

Brennan shook her head. "But still, mummies are amazing."

Booth looked at her for a long time. "You are one of a kind."

Hodgins tapped his chin with a hand. "Tell me honestly, do you believe one of the mummies did it, Booth? You said something 'funny' happened. We went through the report of the coroner but he did not know how the guy died. The others are scared and one of them has gone completely bonkers," he sounded excited and his eyes were sparkling eagerly at the puzzle they had been presented right after the case was officially closed.

Zack was the first to nod. Angela just shrugged. Brennan seemed to think it over and shook her head. "What would be the chances?" she said.

"Booth?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, I believe it was her," he said and gazed at Buffy challengingly.

"Everything is possible," Buffy said softly before lifting her beer bottle in a toast.

* * *

** End of Chapter **


	3. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booth is weary around Buffy. Spike decides to drop by and things in Washington are shaken up a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Buffy kicked the vampire on the knee, effectively rendering him unable to walk. Then with a quick move sank her stake into its heart.

"One down, two to go," she muttered as she headed towards the other two, newly dug graves.

It was disturbing really, how she spent almost all of her time with corpses, either permanently dead or animated.

"I really need to get a life, or at least a hobby," Buffy grumbled to herself.

"Start by not talking to yourself. It's never a good sign, pet. Unless of course you like white, pillow padded rooms and long white blouses that clasp in the back," a voice drawled from somewhere to her left.

Buffy grinned. She could recognize that voice anywhere. She whirled around to look at a familiar pale face.

"Spike!" she happily exclaimed.

The peroxide blond seemed satisfied at the outburst of emotion he got from her. But before they could cross the distance between them, two graves burst open.

Spike sighed. "I get the ugly one."

"They're both hideous," Buffy replied smartly.

"I get the left, you get the other," Spike replied with mock exasperation as they moved with perfect synchronization they had formed after years of fighting first against each other and then side by side. In three minutes all that was left of their opponents was dust.

Buffy turned to face Spike, a smile on her face.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in LA," she told him.

"I got bored! Ever since we blasted the Hell mouth things are quiet there, no excitement. Hey, how 'bout a drink? We haven't spoken in a while now."

Buffy was about to answer that, but her cell phone rang.

"Buffy Summers speaking."

Spike watched amused as the woman chewed her lip. He took his time studying her, noting how she had matured but how perky she was, the cloud of death long behind her. It brought a smile to his face and he decided that his decision to drop by was not so bad. He had wanted to speak to her for a while now but he had not been ready, not to mention he feared her reaction. But now it seemed his timing was perfect.

"Sorry, work. Apparently there was a body found near the pier," she said.

Spike was disappointed.

"We could meet up tomorrow for an early dinner," she suggested.

"Pet, I'm a vampire," he saw fit to remind her with a touch of sarcasm.

"Yeah, and if memory serves right, you are rather fond of Chinese food," she replied.

"Fine," he agreed with a smile at how she still remembered his quirks.

"Good, see you at six," she wrote down the address and gave it to him.

"What if…"

"There're clouds all day tomorrow, maybe even rain," said Buffy as she was already walking away.

Spike shook his head but smiled none the less.

* * *

Brennan's forensic lab team was at Sandy's early next day. They had been delayed by one of their running cases and decided on an early supper. Hodgins practically attacked his plate, inhaling the noodles.

"Manners!" Angela scolded.

"I'm hungry!" the bug expert replied.

"So were the rest of us until you decided to devolve," Angela muttered.

Booth watched the duo amused while Brennan ignored them, focusing only on her delicious plate.

Zack was the only one of the group that was looking around so he saw it first. "Is that Buffy?" he asked.

The rest of them turned as one and saw the blonde Special Agent enter the restaurant and approach the counter with a blond man following at her heels.

Angela raised a delicate eyebrow at the man's appearance. It looked a bit reckless, all leather and bleached blond hair, but it was strangely sexy on that man. "Cute butt," Angela commented.

The males of the group practically gaped at her.

"What? I have eyes!" she defended.

Brennan was eyeing the pair as well.

"Ex lovers," Booth decided.

"Excuse me?" the anthropologist asked.

"Cute butt-boy and Summers are exes," Booth said again.

"How can you tell?" Zack demanded.

"Easy, body language," the former sniper replied. "They are uncomfortable, there are fleeting glances and they don't touch."

Zack's brow furrowed as he took in the signs.

"She has taste," Angela commented. "Tempe?"

Booth looked at the woman next to him expectantly.

"I wouldn't know. Blonds are not my first choice," Brennan replied.

Angela smiled seeing Booth relax. Temperance was oblivious as usual and Angela resisted the urge to bash her best friend. She looked back on the blond pair, curiosity getting the better of her. Then an idea popped up in her mind. She asked Zack to stand so she could leave the booth.

The group watched alarmed as the girl approached the blond pair. They watched in horrific fascination as Buffy introduced Angela to her companion. They talked for some time and even gasped at the interaction. It was at least a good twenty minutes before Angela returned to their group, Buffy waving at them politely.

"Ange!" Brennan scolded. "That was…"

"Amazing? Ingenious? The best thing I ever did?" Angela cut her off.

"So, were they lovers?" Booth asked eager to confirm his theory to Zack.

"Casually together," Angela replied.

Hodgins was impressed.

"Also, he's British, with that gorgeous accent." Angela was all but squealing like a high school girl. "He works for a law firm, likes rock music and he's going to dance with me come Saturday night."

"Pardon?" Brennan said.

"We scheduled a dancing evening," Angela explained. "He's going back to California on Sunday and invited us over to know Buffy's new colleagues. Isn't he cool?"

"Spike?" Booth repeated dumfounded.

"Cool? What are you, fifteen?" Hodgins demanded.

Angela shrugged and began bugging Brennan for a shopping outing.

* * *

Spike met with Buffy outside the restaurant. It had been a fine day so far. The clouds were present all day long, making it possible for him to walk outside like a normal person while cursing Angel for destroying the Gem of Amara for the millionth time. While waiting for Buffy he contemplated how he had missed the taste of food and how he would be damned to miss the chance of spending time with her. It had been too long, even for someone who could walk around for centuries.

"Nice place Slayer," was the second thing coming out of his mouth that evening. The first had been a complement on her outfit, jeans and leather.

"Wait to eat the food first," Buffy replied.

They headed straight for the counter.

Buffy was first to start a conversation.

"You know, I never expected to see you here, in Washington," Buffy commented.

Spike snorted. "Last I heard you were in London."

Buffy allowed a smile. "After Lisbon and Calcutta things were hectic."

"Ah, India," Spike spaced off for a few seconds. "Oh, well. I also heard that the other one, Faith, got engaged to Wood," Spike commented.

"That was a surprise for everyone," Buffy replied.

"Anyone after your heart?" Spike asked.

"Nah, I'm on vacation," she said with a smile.

Spike smiled as well. Relationships were a sore topic between them. He tried another topic. "So, FBI?"

"Yup! I got a badge and everything." Buffy nodded. "It's better than donuts and polyester."

"Well, I heard you have the night shift," he baited.

Buffy's shoulders slumped. "Vamps won't play with me anymore." She pouted prettily, earning a warm smile from the vampire. He flicked her nose in a spur of the moment show of affection. His touch made her feel weird, but good.

"You kick ass in seconds," he told her.

Before Buffy could retort, a voice interrupted them.

"Hello!"

The blond duo turned. Buffy's face broke into a grin. "Angela!"

"Who's the cutie?" Spike asked.

"Angela Montenegro meet Spike," Buffy introduced.

"Spike?" Angela demanded.

"I was in a band," Spike replied with a wink at Buffy. "William is not so colorful for a career in the music industry."

"True," Angela agreed.

"Angela is our resident artist," Buffy informed Spike. "She reconstructs faces from skulls."

The brunette cringed. Usually she preferred to say 'artist' and leave it at that since the guys bolted with the speed of an aircraft at the mere mention of corpses. Angela was afraid the guy might bolt, but Spike seemed impressed.

"So you must have studied fine arts, and a bit of human anatomy, obviously portraits… So sketcher?" he guessed.

At her surprise he added. "You have calluses on your fingers."

"Observant," Angela smiled at him. "Another point."

"I'm gathering points?" Spike perked up.

"Sure!" Buffy and Angela said in unison.

"I can sing," Spike offered.

"As long as it is not 'God save the Queen'," Buffy muttered.

"Hey! No barbs on my ethnicity!" Spike protested.

"British?" Angela asked.

"Born, raised and buried in London," Spike replied.

Buffy elbowed him and he realized his slip.

"Just joking," Spike said fast.

"I have been to London. I actually like Europe even though I actually only enjoyed Prague," said Angela.

Spike had an odd look on his face before turning to Buffy. "Did you visit Prague?"

"Dawn wanted to, but Giles put his foot down. Too much work with the girls and everything," she trailed off.

"Who's Dawn?" Angela asked.

"My little sister. She goes to Oxford," Buffy replied.

"Aren't you American?" Angela asked her thoughtfully.

"She is," Spike answered for Buffy. "After Sunnyhe-dale collapsed on itself she and her sister moved to England."

"Sunnydale?" Angela was shocked. "The Californian town that is one big crater?"

"Same one," Spike and Buffy said in unison.

"How long have you known each other?" Angela wondered.

"Too long," the pair said together before dissolving in laughter.

Spike patted Angela on the shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll get the same feeling after a while."

"Hey!" Buffy protested.

"S'the truth pet."

They ignored Buffy's half muttered threats.

"How long are you staying?" Angela asked. "Because we have to go out together one night. I want to know all about Buffy and her life, most embarrassing moments, boyfriends."

Spike snorted. "Buffy likes bad boys."

"I do not." She paused. "Anymore."

"You two have a past?" Angela asked.

"Casual past," Spike replied. "We're friends now."

The dark haired woman knew the smile he gave her was strained and very much fake so she opted to change the topic. "So, how long are you with us?" Angela asked again.

"Sunday afternoon I'm leaving," Spike replied. "Back to LA for business."

"Grumpy boss?" Angela asked.

"Try broody and a bit of a poof," Spike replied. That earned him a glare and a blow in the gut from Buffy.

"So, Saturday night, say about 10?" Angela asked.

"Club 'Hellhounds'," Spike decided.

"Will you tell the others to come?" Buffy asked Angela.

"Would you like to see Zack dancing?" she demanded.

"Point," Buffy consented.

"Only Booth, Brennan and Hodgins," Angela told her. "I'll ask Zack, but he always refuses, he thinks it is too dangerous."

"Well, Buffy has to behave then," Spike said to the blonde.

"I won't spike anyone's drink," Buffy said with a straight face.

"Funny," muttered Spike sullenly.

"Well, I'll leave you two to get back to my table, along with the rest of the gang," Angela said.

"And we should order," Spike told Buffy.

"The owner brings you what you want," Angela said readily. "I mean, he can guess what you should truly get or like. Well, you'll see what I mean."

"I lay my faith in you pet," Spike said. "

"Pet?" Angela said faintly.

"He likes you," Buffy offered.

The other woman smiled coyly. "See you on Saturday," Angela told Spike.

Buffy's gaze followed Angela and she waved a bit at her colleagues. Spike turned as well and he was momentarily shocked.

"Pet, the guy back there…"

"Booth," Buffy said hurriedly.

"…looks exactly like…"

"I know," Buffy whispered.

"Doesn't it bother you…?”

Buffy sighed. "It used to. Sometimes it still does. It's been some time now but I don't want to talk about it any longer. I try to ignore it and you bringing it up doesn't help my case any," Buffy whispered softly. "They are not that similar. Like the demon was nothing like the soul."

Spike nodded. His face was serious for once. "I'll drop it luv, but I worry about you."

"Spike…"

"Damn it Buffy. You don't trust men anymore. Granted I was a rotten mistake, like the commando boy and what's-his-name, but you and Peaches…"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Well, tough, 'cause I think you look great together. And I'm not drunk. It's just the truth. You used to smile with him."

"He leads a different life now. We both do. I asked for some time to live alone…Have my own life away from people that know me and expect things from me."

"Yes, something about…cookies?" the vampire murmured.

Buffy nodded. "I don't think I baked yet. When I do I'll call him. I just need time off. Time for Buffy. I want to do something for me for a change. Giles found it a good idea. So far I'm doing just fine, new house, new job, new town. Angel and I e-mail frequently though," she trailed off.

Spike sighed. "You have a point, but somebody has to make the first step here and personally I believe you are done baking pet and well, the time off is making him damned impossible to live with. There's not a day we don't fight!"

Buffy chuckled. "You always fought and you will continue to fight."

Spike rolled his eyes and dropped the subject. They started talking about the latest demonic threats on mankind instead. Spike had a lot of anecdotes from his nights in LA and they made Buffy laugh. They only paused as the food arrived.

"This is exactly what I wanted," Buffy exclaimed after taking a look at the dish.

Spike eyed the dish. "Maybe a mind-reading demon," he suggested. "Like Lorne, only this one reads appetites."

Buffy considered this. "Perhaps." She took a bite. "But who cares? It's yummy!"

And like that the discussion ended and they moved to safer topics.

* * *

**Saturday night:**

"But I don't want to!" Brennan resisted Angela's attempts to wear something 'sexier and sensual lest she preferred partying with nuns', as her best friend had put it.

"Well, you will," Angela decided.

"But this is a six thousand years old skull from ancient Mesopotamia," Brennan argued.

"It has waited millennia, I doubt it will mind waiting one more night," Angela told her as she herded the anthropologist out of her office.

"Angela!"

"Yes, I said that. Get over it sweetie and get ready. We are already running late as it is." And just like that Angela won the argument and Brennan was herded out of her office.

"We are late," Angela hissed at Brennan as they parked Brennan's car outside the club. She got out of the car and straightened her short brown skirt and beige top. Brennan followed her. She had been forced to wear a lilac dress Angela picked out for her and made her wear upon pain of death.

"Those jeans were better," Brennan insisted.

"You wore those the last time."

"That was six months ago!"

"Sweetie you should be ashamed to admit it," Angela told her.

"But this dress is so tight!"

Angela grinned and pushed her to the door. Spike was already waiting for them, leaning on a wall and smoking contentedly.

"There he is!" Angela said.

"Just don't do anything you might regret," Brennan muttered in warning.

"He looks hot!" Angela said, paying Brennan no heed. "Hey, Spike!"

The bleached blond turned and beamed at them.

"Hello, cuties!" he said as soon as they were face to face. "You must be Doctor Brennan. Blondie spoke about you."

"Her first name is Temperance," Angela informed him.

"Tempe, then. Or Doc," Spike said.

"Or Bones," Booth approached the group.

The anthropologist tensed, but only Spike noticed the slight change.

"This is Seeley Booth," Angela told Spike. "Our resident FBI Agent, besides from Buffy that is."

Spike shook Booth's hand, noting that the man had taste, but he kept from wearing leather, choosing to wear jeans and a fitting silvery grey shirt. Spike barely kept from muttering 'No leather pants'. He then realized how he was comparing the human with the vampire he knew. Booth was a bit taller and looked older and tanned, less emaciated than Angel usually looked. And his hair was rather tamed. Still he was wary of him and Booth noticed.

Booth frowned.

"You look like someone I know," Spike told him, interpreting the frown for what it was.

"Friend?" Booth asked.

Spike faltered. "Family," he settled telling him.

"Still brooding, Will?"

The group, even Spike, was taken aback by Buffy's sudden appearance.

"Damn it Buff!" the vampire complained as he realized he had dropped his cigarette.

Buffy was sheepish. "Sorry," she offered, not really meaning it.

Spike took a good look at her. She had taken to wearing black leather pants, like someone he would not think about, and a green tube top. She looked sexy and rather dangerous, so different from the woman he remembered. He had changed as well and she noticed.

"Blue is good on you," she approved his shirt. "Brings out your eyes."

"I thought you would kill me if I had chosen red or black," Spike admitted. Buffy simply offered him a cryptic smile.

"Where's Hodgins and Zack?" Brennan asked.

"Hodgins had a date with a Swedish masseuse and Zack had a family dinner to attend," Angela told her.

"Well, we're here, how 'bout we get in?" Spike said.

"Lead the way," Angela told him.

They were admitted immediately and Buffy smiled at the scene. "Looks like the 'Bronze'!"

"Yeah, luv. That's why I brought you all to this place," Spike told her. "Harmony did her thing."

"Harmony? She's still walking?"

The blond vampire shrugged. "Yeah, well, stranger things have happened," Spike muttered.

He led them to a table, but Buffy did not sit. She grabbed Spike and led him to the dance floor.

"Come on, fang-breath. You owe me for that stunt you pulled with Willow."

"I thought it was funny," Spike argued but he followed her none the less.

Angela followed them with her eyes, appreciating how good they looked dancing together.

"That guy is weird," Booth muttered.

"Weird?" Brennan asked.

"There's something about him I just don't like," Booth told her. "I just can't put my finger on it."

Brennan also looked at the pair. She found nothing wrong. Sure, the blond man was rather pale, with an almost translucent skin. He was graceful and drew the attention of males and females alike, just like Buffy did on occasion. Then she focused on those blue eyes and she made a slight face. They were an eerie blue that someone was arctic cold and other times filled with specks of gold that disappeared almost instantly. And those eyes looked old, Brennan realized. She had seen that look in older men and war veterans.

"I think you might be right," she told Booth.

Buffy and Spike approached their table much later. Booth and Brennan seemed to be in the middle of a debate about who had gotten more drunk in a bar in Tahiti. Angela observed the exchange with amusement, a slight grin on her face. When she saw Spike she beamed and stood up at once.

"May I have this dance?" she said rather than asked, before yanking Spike's arm.

Buffy winked at him as he gave her a last look before mingling with the dancing maze.

"Nice guy that Spike," Booth commented.

"What's his real name?" Brennan asked.

They were casual about it, but Buffy was not new to their tactics. She could see Booth did not trust Spike. He really had an intuition about this kind of thing and she was cursing it for the first time.

"Well, his given name is William, but I never asked for his surname," Buffy told them.

"Why not?" Booth asked.

"He can't give it to me," Buffy replied. It was the truth, mostly; she amended, since Spike did not remember his actual surname, false identities aside. A century would do that to someone, she mused.

"He works for a law firm, not CIA," Brennan pointed out.

"Well, the truth is that it's not just a law firm," Buffy told them. "He works for Wolfram and Heart."

"He doesn't seem like the type to respect authority," Brennan commented.

"He doesn't," Buffy admitted. "But he doesn't enter a court room, ever."

"It shows," Booth replied.

The Slayer tried not to grimace. Booth was rather hostile towards Spike and for a moment there she had him confused with a vampire she knew and loved. She wanted to smack herself. This was not the time to compare Angel to Booth. All the other times she caught herself before she reached this point. Maybe it was the fact that Spike was in town that made her think about the coolly collected vampire so much.

'Is this an indication that I miss him more than I thought?' Buffy thought.

She blinked when Booth cleared his throat pointedly. 'Oh, oh! He looks annoyed.'

"You cannot do a background check on him," Buffy stressed. It was really vital he didn't. She had caught wind of some internet sites that held information on vampires of the Aurelian Clan-probably work of the nerdy trio- Spike included. She really did not want to explain that picture with Spike and Drusilla among a throng of dead bodies from World War II.

"I knew that accent was a fake," Booth said.

"Actually, he is British," Buffy told him.

Booth glared at her. Buffy shrugged. Brennan was not focusing on either of them. Her eyes were observing the pair on the dance floor. They were much closer than they were when they started dancing. She knew that Angela was a big girl, but the guy was dangerous. Buffy did not lie about it, and for that she was grateful, but now they knew he could be dangerous. She really worried. Angela had a knack for getting in trouble.

"He won't hurt her," Buffy told her knowingly.

"How do you know?" Brennan asked.

"Because he is always the one to get hurt," Buffy replied.

* * *

**Sunday morning, FBI Offices:**

Buffy heard an intense conversation coming from Booth's office. Still half asleep from staying up nearly all night, a half empty cup of coffee in her grasp.

"Why on Earth did you call me here at six o'clock in the morning?" Buffy demanded.

Brennan was also there, glaring at Booth heatedly.

The male agent was wide awake and quite energetic, his stress-relieving ball hopping from hand to hand.

"There was a break out last night," Booth informed them.

"And?" Buffy snapped.

"Eve Davenport escaped," Booth announced.

"Who's Eve Davenport?" the women asked in unison.

Booth smirked at them. "She's an escapee from the psychiatric ward of Walton's Clinic, which is directly working together with the federal prison."

"What did she do?" Brennan asked.

"Bathed in the blood of her victims," Booth promptly replied. "She thought she was a vampire."

"Well you never said she was sane," Buffy muttered.

"Well what did she do? I study bodies not run after fugitives," Brennan spoke up. "Unless there are bones for me."

"It's your lucky day," Booth smiled widely.

"Not before I get some coffee," Buffy half growled.

"You will, on our way to the crime scene," Booth told them.

"I hate him in the mornings," Buffy muttered.

"I hate him through the day," Brennan replied as the two women tagged behind the former sniper.

* * *

**Jeffersonian Institute:**

Zack picked at the bones he was studying with extra care. Hodgins was in turn studying him.

"So?" the older man asked.

"No!" Zack replied.

"Just a tiny hint."

"There's no such thing as a tiny hint. How can you measure it? There is no specific way to set a scale," Zack replied.

Hodgins gave him an incredulous look, that is until he remembered with who he was speaking with. "It's a figure of speech Zack."

"Right, I knew that," the other man replied.

Hodgins rolled his eyes. They stayed silent for a while until Hodgins realized something.

"Why is it so quiet today?" he asked Zack.

The other shrugged. "Probably because Angela has not arrived yet. Doctor Brennan has called about bringing in a body and Booth and Summers are with her and not here bickering so we can hear them."

"Huh." Hodgins nodded.

"Good morning you two," Dr Goodman said as he passed by, a cup of coffee in hand.

"Morning sir," Hodgins and Zack replied.

The archaeologist stopped. "Why is it so quiet here?"

The other two shrugged.

"Dr Brennan is bringing in a body," Zack replied.

As if on cue Booth strolled in mildly disgusted. He ran his ID through the machine, Buffy copying his move. She did not look all that disturbed, something that made Booth comment on it.

"We've got a delivery for you," Booth told Zack and Hodgins.

"No need to be so excited," Hodgins muttered.

Brennan came in with the team. In the few moments that it took them to uncover the body and place it on the table, Booth was getting impatient.

"I don't see anything," Hodgins commented.

The body was cleaned of everything, like the bones you encounter in archaeological excavations. So it was no surprise that Brennan was in a foul mood.

"I have work in my office," Goodman said and practically fled the room.

"How the hell am I going to study the damn bones? They are clean as glass!"

"Oh, boy," Booth muttered.

"Where's Ange?" Brennan asked.

It was nearly mid morning when Angela crept in the room. Brennan was bent over the table with a magnifying glass, Zack assisting her while Hodgins ran his usual tests. The two FBI agents were at the side drinking coffee.

"Sorry I'm late," she said in a low voice.

"Hold it!" Brennan exclaimed.

Angela cringed.

"Oh, cat fight!" Hodgins said. "It's a figure of speech Zack," he added when the younger man opened his mouth probably to ask about the lack of actual cats. Buffy grinned when Zack promptly shut his mouth.

"We are going to have a chat in my office later," Brennan told Angela.

The artist nodded and Brennan got back to her bones.

It was during lunch break when everyone was gathered together in Brennan's office, eating Indian take-out. Brennan took her friend aside.

"I know," Angela said.

"I was going to ask if you had any fun…"

Angela snorted. "Yeah, right!"

"And yell at you," Brennan admitted.

"He was…wow."

"Wow," Temperance echoed.

"I heard a 'wow' so I'm guessing its Spike you’re talking about," Buffy said. "Sorry I'm crashing but I'm not a basketball fan."

"Won't you feel weird?" Brennan asked. "You do have a history."

"Water under the bridge," Buffy insisted. "Our relationship was not healthy. We're better off as friends."

"There was something odd though," Angela told them.

Buffy waited on pins and needles; there were all sorts of things that were 'odd' when one associated with the un-dead.

"His feet were rather cold," Angela said. "And he had an odd fixation with my neck."

"Did he bite?" Temperance asked.

'Thank you!' Buffy said mentally. She would be a bit of a hypocrite to ask the question. Not to mention it would sound weird.

"Just nibbled."

Buffy wanted to laugh. It was like foreplay. She was willing to bet that Spike was feeling a bit hungry. The sex was bound to awaken his bloodlust.

* * *

**Underground:**

Spike swore as he run like the bats of hell were after him. The irony was that in a way they were.

"Damn you Peaches!" he muttered.

The demons he had come here to steal from were a new race, just recently crossed over from one of the Hell dimensions. Wolfram and Heart had set the task of retrieving one of their talismans on Spike and the blond had jumped at the chance of meeting the eldest Slayer alive, at the moment. He could tell she was not the same girl she used to be. He could feel the power she held reek from her. It was old, ancient even, and darker than the night they prowled around in.

He dodged an axe thrown after him and sped up. He continued for hours more until he could feel the sun reach its height. He knew his options were limited. With the talisman he held he was a moving target. If he stayed in the sewers he was ash while on the surface he chanced 1st degree burns until he found refuge.

"Where's a Slayer when you need one?" he muttered as he began climbing to the surface.

* * *

**Jeffersonian Institute:**

"Are we done for the night?" Angela was dead on her feet. "It is well past midnight and Sunday!"

"One more time," Brennan said.

Booth rolled his eyes and recited the information the bones had given them.

"The bones belong to a female, approximately 25 to 30 years old. Not a mark on the bones. No clues on the crime scene save gallons of blood, silk fabrics and this little fella." He waved an intricate mirror in front of them. "Which our good doctor Goodman said it is from the Victorian Ages."

"Can we leave now? I have a Swedish model waiting for me," Hodgins practically begged.

"Free to go man," Booth said. "Not the rest of you though."

Hodgins smirked and practically ran away while the rest just glared at Booth.

"Come on! I have not slept a wink!" Angela pleaded.

"What were you doing all night?" Zack asked.

The dark haired girl turned scarlet as she tried to think of an appropriate answer to that. Not that Zack was a virgin or anything, but she really could do without giving him a heart attack.

"Never mind that," Brennan told him.

"Fine," Booth said.

They left

Buffy felt the hairs on her neck rising and her spine tingle. She tuned the rest of the conversation out as her eyes focused exactly on the bush that hid the creature that preyed on her. It was a vampire, that much was immediately revealed. It took her only seconds to realize that she knew that tingle.

'What the hell is he doing here?' she wondered.

Spike watched the group of scientists and feds walk along the parking lot. What disturbed him was the fact that Buffy's attention seemed to focus somewhere else. He followed the line of her vision and had to bite his tongue so hard that it bled lest he wanted to gasp loudly.

'No fucking way!'

"Buffy?" Brennan asked again.

"Sorry, what was that?" Buffy asked.

Booth gave her an odd look. "You have that habit of spacing off at the most inopportune moments," he told her.

"Right," Buffy muttered.

"We were discussing the time to meet tomorrow. We have to talk with the doctors at the psychiatric ward and her cellmates," Booth told her. "Brennan will be with us to study the surroundings."

"Not too early. I didn't even enjoy my day off!" Buffy complained.

"Neither of us did," Booth reminded her.

"Or the morning after," Angela muttered but Buffy heard her. She really wanted to comfort the woman but thought better of it. It was not like Spike did not care, but it would be better to leave before dawn than to have to explain why he sizzled under the sun's rays.

"You did it again," Angela accused Buffy.

"Sorry." Buffy was sheepish. She kept staring at the bushes were she knew a dark figure lurked. "I really need some sleep. See you tomorrow at the Bureau."

A chorus of 'goodnights' trailed after her but she ignored them, just getting inside her car and leaving.

* * *

When Buffy arrived at her flat, a blond was already waiting for her to open the door.

"Spike? Aren't you supposed to be in LA now?" she asked. Taking a closer look at him she made a face. "Got the number of that truck?"

"Not funny." Spike growled.

"And you smell too. Sewers?"

A brief nod.

"Come on in then peroxide. You have a lot to explain."

Spike sighed and hobbled inside the dark building. The ghost that served as a housekeeper greeted them shortly.

"Well, that's…nice," Spike muttered.

"It's creepy and weird but she can be quite helpful when intruders are around," Buffy told him as they made their way upstairs with the elevator. "You remember how strong ghosts can be."

Spike nodded. "So, you have the best alarm in town."

"Yup! Here we are!"

"Nice," Spike commented as he took a look at the room.

"Thanks, I decorated everything by myself. So, can I get you a drink, maybe scotch?"

"You don't happen to have blood, do you pet?" Spike asked.

"Bought a pint the moment you dropped in town," she told him. "I'll go warm up a mug."

Spike nodded gratefully. He felt drained from running for his life.

Soon she returned with a mug that said _'Don't shoot the librarian'_. Spike snorted. "At least it's an improvement."

"Oh that? Giles sent it along with a crate of books on talismans," Buffy replied. "And honestly, it was either that or Minie and Daizy."

Spike shuddered. "This will do, thank you."

"Can you know tell me what happened?" Buffy asked.

Spike pulled the talisman from his pocket and gave it to her. It was a copper made eye that had a simple red gem for an iris.

"Got it from a clan of demons that just arrived in our dimension. They planned to bring an apocalypse to eradicate competition and re-inhabit the planet," Spike explained.

"Goody, an apocalypse!" Buffy muttered.

"I had to cross half the sewer system for this."

"How do they look like?"

"Tall."

"Spike…"

"Real tall, like eight feet, scaly and butt ugly. They have mean swords too."

Buffy grimaced. "How many?"

"Half a dozen, maybe more. But no more than ten."

Buffy sighed; this situation looked pretty bad. "What are you going to do?" she asked him.

"Can you keep this here for now?" Spike asked pointing at the talisman. "I don't want to send this by UPS and I don't believe they'll fancy having their staff killed."

"Suppose not," Buffy consented with a small smile.

She stood and placed it in a small music box on the bookcase.

"Thanks pet," Spike told her.

"Wanna crash here tonight?" Buffy asked.

"Think he'd like that?"

Buffy colored. "You saw him?"

"Yeah."

"Oh…"

"Who cares? Might as well rest here. That ghost lady of yours can wake us if we're under siege."

Buffy, still blushing, nodded and stood. "I'll show you to your room."

* * *

**Booth's Place:**

Booth groaned when his cell phone rang in the middle of the night. A quick peek at his clock showed it was three in the morning. Cursing he dialed the number that called him.

"Booth?" a very awake Temperance Brennan called out.

"If this is about bones you have been…"

"We need help," the forensic anthropologist told him.

As Booth felt the last of his sleep fade, he could hear she sounded shaken.

"Whose 'we'?"

"I'm at Angela's house. There are some people outside. The moment they saw us they charged. Angela is hurt…Booth, they look hideous…"

"I'm coming," he said.

The line died and he stood up, rushing to get dressed. It was not like Temperance to feel or sound scared. And that was cause for alarm.

* * *

**Buffy's Place:**

The Slayer groaned as she got out of bed. On the way to the door she collided with Spike.

"Ow!" Buffy complained.

"'Sorry pet," he muttered.

"Booth is at the front door," she told him.

Two minutes later Booth was pacing her living room, telling her about Brennan and Angela.

"What's he doing here?" Booth asked as he finally decided to notice Spike.

"Never mind him. We have to go get them," Buffy stressed.

She went straight to her room and pressed the button to speed dial Giles' number.

On their way to Angela's place Buffy could not stop yawning.

"Could you stop that? It's contagious," Booth snapped at her.

"I need a smoke," Spike muttered.

"Not inside my car," Booth told him.

It was decided that Spike would sit in the front because of his lack of reflection.

"Did she say how many?" Spike asked Booth.

"I don't even know why you came. Civilians are not to interfere," Booth told him.

"Spike can be of help," Buffy assured him.

"We're here," Booth announced.

Buffy felt an awareness along her spine. She stole a glance at Spike and saw he had tensed up.

Booth checked his holster. Then he turned back to look at Buffy. "The peroxide stays in and you get your gun out."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the direct order and complied. Spike watched them go before he too slipped out of the car. He watched as Buffy directed Booth away from danger. Turning around he came face to face with the demons.

"Hey chaps! Lovely weather we're having!" He smiled.

Buffy was aware that the demons were watching her every move as well as the fact that they had noticed Spike.

'You better distract him,' she thought as she and Booth made their way inside and ushered into the apartment by Brennan. She was looking rather pale as she herded them to the sitting room. Angela was sprawled on a couch, an ugly cut on her shoulder, which was slowly turning black. Buffy grimaced. It reeked of magic.

"What happened?" Booth demanded. "There was no one out there."

"Impossible," Brennan muttered. She took a look out of the window. "But they were there!"

"What did they want?" Booth asked.

"Besides the growling?" Angela muttered. A light sheen of sweat had appeared on her forehead.

"Growling?" Booth echoed.

"Something about the eye and a word I could not understand," Brennan told him.

'Oh-oh,' Buffy thought.

"They did mention Spike," Brennan told Booth.

'Oh, hell!' Buffy cringed mentally.

"Summers?" Booth demanded.

"Agh, I sound as if I'm still in high school."

"Start talking," Booth ordered.

"A pain killer would be nice," Angela asked them.

"Ah, it won't work…" Buffy began explaining but stopped as her cell phone rang. "Wills? What do have for me?...Aha…And for the venom? Someone was infected and it looks black." She listened carefully. "Thanks, you're the best. Yes, I'll send your wishes to him and no I have not kicked him yet. Bye Willow."

Buffy turned to her audience. "That cut is infected. You need to sprinkle it with holy water and lavender."

"An explanation would be nice," Booth demanded.

Brennan ignored him as she studied the wound. "It looks like the marks from the black plague. Why?"

Buffy cringed. "Because it is?"

"First the mummy, now this?" Booth demanded. "You have a lot to explain missy."

"Can you focus on me first?" Angela was panicked and it showed. "What was that about the black plague?"

Buffy took a small vial with a clear liquid.

"Don't tell me that's holy water," Booth muttered.

"You carry it with you?" Brennan asked.

"Got lavender?" Buffy asked.

"Temperance knows where I keep some," Angela said.

"I'll get it," the doctor said.

They watched as Buffy slowly sprinkled the wound with the water and watched it smoke.

"Does it hurt?" Brennan asked her friend.

"It…burns," Angela gasped.

Buffy took the leaves of lavender and pressed them on the cut. The black spot retreated before their eyes.

Booth and Brennan took a step back.

"What was that?" Angela was scared.

Buffy held the leaves that sizzled and turned to ash.

"That was magic," she announced, bracing herself for the outburst.

* * *

**Outside:**

Spike was thrown against a dumpster and felt one of his ribs crack. Another demon advanced.

"Where is the Eye?"

"Don't have it," Spike said with a grimace.

The next time he was thrown back he felt his skull crack. His amber eyes were foggy and he could smell his own blood now.

"Seven against one?"

Spike lifted his head at the sound of the familiar sarcastic voice.

"You're late you bloody Ponce!" he cried out.

"I can come back in a few minutes," Angel suggested.

"Whoever told you you're funny was nuts," Spike growled.

"I'll let Drusilla know. So, who goes first?"

* * *

**End of Chapter**


	4. More Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy has to tell Booth, Brennan and Angela that magic is real and demons too. At the same time Angel decides to help Spike get out of the sticky situation he is in with those demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Angela's apartment:**

"Magic?" Booth dumbly repeated.

"Like voodoo?" Brennan asked.

"Voodoo is kids' stuff," Buffy replied.

"Maybe you need to sit down, take a vacation," Booth suggested.

"I believe you," Angela told the blond and effectively cutting Booth's rant short...

"Say it's the truth you're not crazy or anything," Booth conceded. "I need proof."

"As do I," Brennan asked. "That didn't make sense! If the cure for the black plague was this simple…"

"It was a type of venom," said Buffy. "It replicates symptoms of various diseases to throw doctors and victims off."

"Sounds reasonable," Angela pointed out.

"Why are you so easy to accept it?" Brennan asked her friend.

Angela knew the reason very well. In the desert she had seen that young girl asking for help, pointing the way like the desert itself was trying to help them. She had believed then that only a higher power could help them. What Buffy was telling them now did not run far away from truth. Not to mention the fact that she was no longer delirious in her fever and the dark spot was gone from her skin.

Near the window Booth was having a similar inner discussion. For him the first encounter was that guy at the voodoo shop in New Orleans that had killed his own daughter. That was the beginning. Afterwards, since Buffy appeared there had been all sorts of odd things. First that body disappearing from the morgue, then the thing with the mummy, shady manuscripts and connections to organizations such as Wolfram and Hart and the Council. The indications were too many if one cared to look. And Booth had been looking since the mummy incident. He had also dug up old files on Sunnydale that often held the name Summers as a witness. He had also seen how often at nights, people that passed them by whenever Buffy was there tended to cringe or take a look at her and turn tail. He leveled the slim woman with a calculating look.

"It is simply too much," Brennan told Buffy.

"How about giving us a practical demonstration?" Angela suggested.

"You want to see a demon?" Buffy asked them.

"Nobody said anything about demons," Booth told her.

"Oops!"

* * *

**Outside the apartment:**

Spike panted heavily. After the strenuous fight even his cold blood had heated up and burned his skin. Beside him, Angel was also trying to calm down. He was not panting as heavily but he was still bent over, the bodies of various demons scattered around them.

"Bloody nuisance," Spike muttered as he fished in his pockets for his cigarettes. After much cursing and searching he found a battered pack and took one out. He took a drag and exhaled before addressing the older vampire.

"What are you doing here Peaches?" Spike demanded.

"I got a lead that one of our clients escaped a mental institution. Some Eve Davenport wants to be turned and I really don't want that happening. She's already half way there with the violence and the bloodlust. What about those guys that had you cornered?"

"About the damn amulet," Spike replied.

"And where is the amulet?" Angel demanded.

"Safe."

Angel narrowed his eyes and loomed over the shorter demon. "Where is the amulet Spike?" he growled, his eyes flashing gold.

"I gave it to Buffy," Spike replied. "As you probably know already since you were spying on us."

Angel looked away.

"Pet couldn't sense you all that good but you can't fool me," Spike told him.

Angel sighed and leaned against an alley wall that had no blood on it.

"I thought you drove here together," Angel told him.

"We did."

"And?"

"She's probably up there with Angela and the rest of them," Spike told him. He remembered then Buffy's partner and his eyes widened a bit. He took another drag as he tried to sound indifferent. "Say, did you see everyone that walked in that apartment?"

"Not really, why?"

"Nothing. So, are you staying long enough to say 'hi' to Buffy?"

Angel looked guilty.

"You're an idiot," Spike told him. "If you want her you have to act. She's not going to be around forever."

Angel's face darkened and Spike knew that the vampire was remembering the time with Glory. He had heard rumors about how hurt the dark haired vampire had been, but at the time he had no courage to care, he was also mourning.

Angel sighed in regret. "I know."

"Then act and act soon," Spike ordered and turned away.

The older vampire stood in the alley and then looked at the bodies. He was left cleaning up again. With a silent curse and one by one, he set them on fire. Within minutes nothing was left.

* * *

**Angela's apartment:**

"Those people who poisoned Angela were demons?" Brennan asked.

"Yes," Buffy said reluctantly.

"Ugly fellows," Angela commented.

Buffy allowed a hesitant grin.

"Demons are real too?" Booth asked.

"Pretty much so," Buffy told them as she dropped down on a couch.

There was a long pause as they all contemplated everything they had learned so far.

"This is weird," Brennan muttered. "How do you know about all this?"

"An excellent question," Booth commented.

"From LA and then Sunnydale. I ran into a few demons," Buffy replied.

"Like the ones we saw?" Angela asked.

"Ah, no," Buffy muttered. There really was no way to help the matter. And she was always better off when telling the truth. So she took a deep breath. "Actually, those were vampires."

"Vampires?" Brennan asked with amusement.

"Yes, dead bodies, reanimated by a demon," Buffy told them.

"Next thing we know you'll tell us that Dracula is for real," Booth muttered.

"That rat bastard?" Buffy scoffed. "Next time I see him I'll stab him, just for the fun of it," she declared. "Not that it would do any good, but I need to vent. I should probably demand he first gives back the money he owes a friend of mine."

"Okay, this is all insane," Booth spoke up.

"I guess you have to give us proof," Angela told Buffy.

The Slayer sighed. "Fine! Get your coats."

* * *

**Lloyd's Bar:**

"What a dump," Angela muttered.

"What is that smell?" Brennan asked.

They all came to a stop once they saw the clientele.

"That smell is a Fungus demon," Buffy replied. "Hey Lloyd!"

The man in the bar, the only human in the establishment save for them, paled after seeing Buffy.

"It's the Slayer! Hello Slayer!"

Booth saw several demons, some with scales others with boils or antlers but definitely monstrous stood to leave.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm here for a drink people! Settle down!" she called out.

The commotion stopped and they settled back down.

"Were those antlers?" Brennan whispered as she turned to take another look. Buffy took her by the arm and led her to the bar, the other two following. The barman eyed them with curiosity.

"What now?" he asked Buffy.

"Drinks for me and my friends," she told him.

"They're normal blocks, right?" Lloyd asked her while studying the group that had tagged after the blond.

"Can't you tell?" Buffy scoffed.

Lloyd saw the three normal humans that seemed in awe of their surroundings. There really was no point to argue with her. "Fine, I'll get on it," he told her.

Booth eyed the barman with questions. "Is the bartender a demon as well?"

"Who Lloyd? Nope. Just a regular human like you guys. He just works in a rather…different environment," Buffy replied. "Throughout history there have been many humans working for demons. Serving drinks to them is the least."

"What's the most?" Booth asked.

"Killing their own for them," Buffy replied.

"Oh," Angela muttered.

"Your drinks," Lloyd announced.

"Cheers!" Buffy told them, taking her drink and sipping it.

Lloyd saw the rest eyeing the drinks reluctantly. "I have not poisoned them," he joked.

"He says the truth," Buffy told them with a smirk.

Brennan was the first to pick up her glass. She eyed the demons across the hall playing poker and then downed half the glass. Booth had no such qualms and emptied the entire glass.

"He'll need a refill," Buffy told Lloyd.

"What did you tell them girl?" the long haired man asked her.

"About demons and magic," she replied.

"Everything?" Lloyd inquired. He knew that facing the naked truth was rather overwhelming. His own 'enlightenment' had ended with him being drunk for a couple of days afterwards.

Buffy turned to her colleagues. "Did you know that this Earth is older than any of us know and that it did not begin as a paradise?" she asked.

At their stares she turned to Lloyd. The long haired man grinned and nodded, knowing in advance what she would ask of him.

"I'll leave you the bottle," he told her.

* * *

**Jeffersonian Institute:**

Zack and Hodgins alternated staring between Angela and Brennan. They both seemed to be recovering from a pretty bad hangover. What caused them to stare even more was when Booth came in, also holding his head and swallowing two aspirins at once.

"Okay," Hodgins spoke up. "Did I miss anything? Was there a party and we weren't invited."

"No," Angela replied hastily.

"Somehow you response lacks conviction," Zack told her.

"Whatever. It's way too early and bright and half my brain cells are dead. I need caffeine," Angela muttered.

"Me too," Brennan groaned.

"In the knowledge of sounding like an idiot, me three," Booth told Angela.

She nodded and went in search of a pot and cups.

"I'm feeling left out here," Hodgins complained.

"Stop yelling," Booth snapped at him and the bug expert raised his hands in surrender.

"Morning!" Buffy entered the stage with a bounce on her step. She collected a fair number of glares.

"You sure are perky this morning," Brennan accused her.

Buffy shrugged. It was odd to have people knowing about demons and in this place. These people were nothing like Xander and Willow where so many years ago. Looking back, it seemed like another life. She guessed it probably was. When arriving in Washington, her goal was to be left alone from people who knew her and have a fresh start. But it seemed that she was starting another cycle already. It remained to be seen how thing would progress from now on. The one thing good from all of this was that she no longer had to hide the fact that the culprit was a demon when the need arose. Zack and Hodgins were still in the dark but she did not believe it would remain a secret from them for long.

Of course there was another fact to consider in all this; she had yet to tell them she was not normal. Lloyd's comment the night before about her being the Slayer had flown over their heads. Their attention had been solely on the many different demons all around them. She was in no hurry to break that tidbit of information any time soon. Especially since she still had not managed to find out why her abilities were growing.

"How come you're so bouncy?" Angela asked her. She was juggling a pot of steaming coffee and three large cups. "You drank a lot more than us."

"I got great metabolism," was all Buffy said. She was still not very tolerant when it came to alcohol, but as long as the drinks were not spiked or spelled she could hold fairly well.

"Whatever Summers, just let her serve coffee," Booth snapped.

"You sure are no fun when you're hung-over," Brennan told him.

Luckily he was the first Angela served coffee to and there was no caustic reply from him.

It was much later that the three adults had calmed down and were less likely to bite anyone's head off. Zack and Hodgins kept their distance from Booth, but Buffy was oblivious to the sporadic glares she received. The three were uneasy around her and she guessed it was normal. She had managed to make their entire belief system collapse and while Angela might be open to the idea, Booth and Brennan were hesitant.

"Anything from the bone shards?" Brennan asked Zack.

"Well I … Nothing," the young man admitted.

"Nothing?" Booth repeated. "You must have found something! We need that something!"

"Sorry," Zack told him.

"She just cleans up well," Buffy commented with a shrug. "We'll just search deeper."

Booth eyed her strangely for a bit and Buffy gulped. "What?" she asked.

"Maybe you should ask around, Summers," he suggested.

"Why her?" Hodgins asked.

Brennan nodded and Angela smiled.

"I thought Eve Davenport just was insane," Buffy gritted out as she glared at her partner.

Booth was on his feet looming over her smaller figure. "But how can you be sure?"

"The girl thinks she's a vampire," Angela reminded Buffy.

"Lots of people are sick in that way. There are clubs formed with that theme! Yet it doesn't mean they are!" Buffy argued.

"There are clubs with vampire-wannabes?" Hodgins asked them. "Talk about problematic people."

"What harm can it be?" Brennan asked.

"I'd be a favor short," Buffy told them.

"Ask Lloyd," Booth told her.

"Who's Lloyd?" Hodgins and Zack asked.

"He would have told me last night," Buffy argued.

"He's your snitch?" Booth asked.

"Yeah, he knows his way around and the clients talk," Buffy replied.

"Maybe I should question him," Booth spoke out loud.

Buffy snorted.

"I could tag along," Brennan said eagerly.

Buffy's eyes widened. "You are not to go back there all alone!" she exclaimed.

"Why not Summers? I'm a big boy," Booth told her.

"I can take care of myself," Brennan reminded her.

"And I do carry a gun," Booth pointed out.

"Lot of good that will do to you," Buffy muttered.

"Everyone's afraid of guns," Zack cut in.

"Exactly!" Booth pointed his hand at the younger man.

"Not those guys," Buffy gritted out.

"What makes them so special?" Hodgins asked.

"Never mind," Booth, Brennan, Angela and Buffy said together.

"Wow! What's the big secret?" the bug expert asked.

Even Zack looked petulant at being left out.

Buffy groaned and felt like ripping her hair out. "This is so childish of you!" she accused Booth.

He shrugged. "Will you do it?" he grinned at her.

Buffy wanted to scream or hit him hard, but neither was an option at the present time so she settled for cursing under her breath, which in turn earned another smile from Booth.

"We're waiting here," he said in a sing-song voice as he pointedly stared at her.

Buffy took a deep breath and took her cell phone out while it chose that moment to ring. With a groan she answered.

"Summers speaking."

_"Hello, pet!"_

She blinked several times. "Spike?"

_"The one and only! Say, what time to you get off work? I want to meet with you."_

"Hold on, you're still here? Why didn't you go back to LA?"

_"You got my amulet pet. I have yet to retrieve it."_

She looked sheepish as she realized that she had not seen the vampire after she returned from Angela and Lloyd. "Sure, I'll meet with you."

_"Lloyd's place?"_

"Suits me," Buffy replied. She heard commotion from the other end. "Are you alone?"

_"…Not exactly…"_

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Spike…"

_Sigh. "I can't tell, luv. He'd pound me to the wall."_

"Who is that?" Buffy demanded. There were not many people who could beat Spike.

 _"Um, right."_ Spike avoided her question. _“Midnight good for you?"_

Buffy's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "What are you up to Fang-breath?"

_"Ha, ha. Funny pet. Like I would deceive you."_

"Try the other one cause I'm not buying it," Buffy hissed.

_"You'll see tonight. Anyway, I'm calling cause she's mortal, for now."_

"Mortal? For now?" Buffy wondered.

 _"Some chick named_ _Eve Davenport escaped from the white padded room and wants to be a demon. People called and informed me. She used to be a client of Wolfram and Heart and that says it all."_

Buffy frowned. That was not good at all. She really could do without a new blood thirsty demon and Booth would be too smug to handle after this.

"Thanks Spike. I'll see you tonight and bring it along," she told him. "Oh, and I have a surprise for you."

 _"Somehow, when you say it I have the feeling I want to migrate far away from you,"_ he returned.

She chuckled. "See you."

"Make the call," Booth told her once she hung up.

"I won't have to," Buffy told him.

* * *

**Lloyd's Bar:**

Spike was sitting at the counter and nursing a mug of blood. He felt the tingle of a Slayer in the immediate vicinity and smiled.

"Took you long enough," he said.

He turned and gasped as Booth, Brennan and Angela were flanking Buffy's side. He spluttered in shock and Buffy sat to his right with a sigh, the rest following them.

"What are they doing here?" he finally got out.

"About Eve Davenport," Booth told him.

"I'm here for the fun of it," Angela admitted.

"Is that blood on your mouth?" Brennan asked Spike.

Spike turned to Buffy with a look that said 'explain or I'll bite you'.

"Angela was cursed and I had to use Wicca practices to cure her, and then it slipped out the part about the demons," Buffy said in a rush.

"That's just…well, typical of you," Spike truthfully told her.

"Tell me about it," Buffy muttered.

"It is blood," Booth confirmed.

Angela looked a bit freaked out. "He's drinking blood," she pointed out.

Spike rolled his eyes and turned to Buffy. "Will you do the honors pet?"

"Spike's a vampire," the Slayer said.

"What?" the three mortals exclaimed.

"And you said nothing to her?" Booth demanded. "She left with him!"

"It's not like I'd suck her dry," Spike muttered, sounding offended.

"You did have a fixation with my neck," Angela recalled.

"It was just a nibble!" Spike defended. Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing.

The vampire received dubious looks from the rest of them.

"Well, I wasn't!" he stressed. "I haven't killed a human in…years come to think of it."

"He's telling the truth," Buffy backed the vampire up.

"You believe him?" Brennan asked. "What happened to no souls and no morals?"

"I do have a soul," Spike told her.

"But Summers said…" Booth started.

"Spike and another vampire do have souls," Buffy admitted. "But they are the only ones who actually do."

"I earned my soul back," Spike told them. "And even before that happened I had not harmed humans. I got this chip that prevented me from doing so."

"Chip?" Brennan asked.

"You get this one, luv," Spike told Buffy as he went back to drinking blood. The humans watched him in horrified fascination as he ate while they listened with half an ear at Buffy retelling everything she knew about the Initiative.

"The government knew?" Booth gritted out.

Spike snorted. "Of course they did!"

"That's sick," Brennan muttered. "Those experiments…Even if it was demons they did them on, it was sick that humans even thought of them."

"And those soldiers," Booth commented. "They played with all those lives…"

"Ange?" Brennan asked her friend.

But the girl was in shock.

"She's still stuck on the fact Spike's a vamp," Buffy said knowingly.

"I feel like…" Angela strived for words.

"A necrophiliac?" Buffy suggested.

"Hey!" Spike exclaimed.

"I'm just joking Spike," Buffy muttered.

"You'd better be! Especially with your track record," he told her.

Buffy cringed when three sets of eyes focused on her.

"You just had to bring that up," she groaned and punched his arm hard.

"Ouch! Woman, that hurt!" Spike complained.

"An explanation would be nice," Booth offered.

"Buffy's first boyfriend was the Sire of my Sire," Spike offered. "A vampire of two hundred and fifty years."

Buffy buried her face in her hands. Just when she thought she was done Spike had to go and tell them more. So much for having a fresh start. She was so going to stake him at the first chance she got.

"How old are you?" Brennan asked the blond vampire.

"'Bout a hundred and thirty," Spike said with a shrug.

"Any younger men?" Booth inquired of Buffy. The Slayer glared at him.

"One of the commando guys," Spike muttered. "Then me. And didn't Dracula court you for a while. And Willow mentioned something about the Immortal." He turned to Buffy looking amused. "You have more contact with the dead than with the living." He shook a finger at her but far away from her face.

Buffy gasped and barely refrained from reaching from the stake she had hidden in her jacket.

"Your record is worse than mine," Angela admitted. Spike heard her and chuckled.

"Sorry I didn't say anything," Spike told Angela. "It's not like you would believe me. But I really did not mean to hurt you. I really did like you, still do. Not many mortals are as cute as you."

Angela blushed.

The doctor of the team had stayed silent for a period, contemplating something until she decided to just ask because the question, no matter how she thought it over, could not sound any better. "She won't get anything, will she?" Brennan asked carefully.

"Anything?" Spike asked. He almost smirked when the forensic expert squirmed. Humans were gullible like that. But at the same time wondered at how she thought about that. Momentarily he was a bit disturbed about all the folk tales that surrounded his kind.

"Sexually transmitted diseases," Brennan said. "Technically you are a dead body and a highly active sexual creature."

Both Spike and Buffy shared a look and then they laughed.

"It's a serious matter," Brennan stressed, concerned about her friend.

"Vampires don't catch such germs. Don't ask me how, they just don't," Buffy explained.

"Demons don't get human diseases as far as I know," Spike added. "And vampires don't get sick at all, save for poisons and such. And we're not really dead. We're just another form of life and we are technically a higher form that existed long before mankind made an appearance. It's like cats cannot get the same diseases birds do. As far as I know, there has never really been anyone to research this subject."

Brennan considered the poor analogy and nodded. It made some sense.

The blond woman nodded. "And Spike has always been rather devoted," Buffy said as an afterthought. "His longest relationship lasted for over a century."

Both females gave him a smile and Buffy almost snickered. It was always a plus point for him with the ladies. It seemed rather romantic, even to Buffy for some time.

"And then it was Buffy," Spike added with a smile at her direction. The blond woman glared. He gave her a mischievous grin.

"So he was the one to show you all about demons?" Booth asked.

"Um, not really," Buffy replied reluctantly.

"His grand sire then?" Angela asked.

Spike snorted. "That ponce?"

"Hey!" Buffy swatted him.

"Come on pet, he and I never got along very well if at all, it's not likely to change."

"I won't have you insulting him and I really want to know what it was you called me for so can we talk business then?" Buffy told him, eager to change the subject and get answers for her questions, which she’d had since that morning.

"Fine with me," Spike told her.

"You said you had something on Eve Davenport," Buffy reminded him.

At that Booth and Brennan perked up in attention.

"Yeah, word is she's trying to turn into a full blooded demon. Her chances are that she will attract the attention of a vampire. She's so insane that I don't want to see what happens after she's turned. Chances are she'll be worse than Dru."

"Why would she want to be a vampire?" Angela asked.

"Easy," Spike told her. "Eternal youth, strength, things like that have always been the envy of mankind. Some just want to have their name written in history or seek to gain power. This Davenport looks up at one of our kind in particular."

"There are famous vampires?" Brennan asked.

"Like poets and so on?" Booth seemed amused.

"We're un-dead, not brain dead," Spike snapped, rather offended. Angela chuckled.

Buffy cleared her throat.

"Well, not all," Spike told her.

The Slayer hid her smile and focused on the important point, Davenport's idol. "Who?" Buffy demanded.

"He's known as the Scourge of Europe," Spike replied and looked pointedly at Buffy who cringed.

"That sounds ominous," Brennan commented. Angela nodded her agreement behind her.

"And rather tasteless," Booth muttered with a grimace.

"It's not funny. He made a name as the most ruthless of our kind. Killed indiscriminately for a century or so. His specialty was torture. He actually thought torture was an art and treated it as such. His 'works of art' are nasty and deadly like him, and almost always insane." Spike actually shuddered. Those days were only bringing him nightmares now that he had a soul and added to his guilt whenever his inner demon got particularly nasty. "If you ask me he's not all that sane either, but he's the worst demon ever. Even now demons strive to be like him."

"You sound…fond of him," Brennan observed.

"Yeah, well, he was my grand Sire. He taught me everything. My Sire, Drusilla, was insane so not much of a help to me," Spike admitted. "He's family, however perverted that might sound."

"Hold on," Booth muttered. "Then that means…" He pointed at Buffy who rolled her eyes. It was Spike who rushed to defend the girl.

"Nah, he had been cursed with a soul by the time he was with Blondie here," Spike offered. "They are like totally different people. If I were soulless, you'd probably be dead the moment I saw you. I never had much patience." He looked at the two females. "And you look tasty enough."

"I think this is what's called too much information," Angela commented as she took a seat at the stool. Booth and Brennan followed her example.

Spike, seeing the looks Buffy received ran to her rescue. "I was serious. The soul is innocent of the deeds of the demon. I nearly went insane when my soul was returned and I was not nearly as bad as Angelus. If anything, Buffy dating my grand Sire was a good thing. She got a reliable ally and he had a reason to not off himself."

"Angelus," Brennan murmured. "Ironic."

"He always was a sucker for drama," Spike offered.

"Back on Davenport," Buffy instructed. This conversation had really gotten way out of hand. By the looks of it there would be much she would have to explain. And Lloyd had not brought any alcohol yet.

"Fine," Spike replied. "She's out to get attention."

"She already earned it," Brennan commented.

"Not really," Spike told them.

"She killed all those people," Angela commented.

"Brute, tasteless and bloody killings," Spike scoffed. "Nothing special and certainly not enough to catch demonic attention, certainly not my grand Sire's"

"Angelus used to be rather artistic in his killings. He used to even make sketches of his most gory work," Buffy mused.

"How the hell do you know of that?" Spike asked her.

She gave him a pointed look. "I did get my fair share of them," she reminded him.

"So, she won't be turned?" Booth turned the conversation on the topic at hand.

"It's not a risk I'm willing to take," Buffy confessed.

"Where do we start looking?" Booth asked.

Spike shifted on his seat a bit. "Someone's already on it," he admitted.

"Who? Did you call London?" Buffy asked.

"Not really," Spike replied.

"Was it Gunn then?" Buffy asked him. "Or maybe one of the girls?"

"Not really."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "Spike…"

He lowered his head. "Don't be mad."

"Just out with it!"

"Dead boy."

Buffy had not felt this angry for a long time. She clenched her fist so hard that they turned white.

"Was he going to call?" she whispered.

Spike swallowed. He did not envy Angel at the moment even if Buffy preferred him. "Um, I really can't…"

"Answer me!" Buffy demanded. Her eyes had an unearthly golden tinge.

Every demon in the bar turned to look at them. Some were half way standing, ready to bolt. The Slayer was angry and out for blood.

"Hey! I don't want to be in the middle. I told him to come out but you know how he gets!" Spike defended himself. He felt her power rolling just under her skin. All his senses told him to bolt for his un-life. Only his friendship held him put.

He saw her stand and wanted to slap himself silly. Lloyd watched the scene and cowered behind his bar. The three humans looked on bewildered. Her anger was palpable. Booth could almost taste it in the air.

"Pet," Spike warned. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"I'm just going to get some air," she hissed.

Spike cringed. "I believe you, honestly, just take it easy."

Her almost amber eyes locked with his blue ones dead on and the vampire hopped down from the stool and took a step back as if she could burn him.

"Buffy…" he gasped out.

She turned abruptly and walked out of the bar.

Her human partners did not miss the collective sigh of relief from the demonic clients.

Brennan noticed that Spike had grown even paler. But when the tiny slip of a girl that was Buffy left, even he seemed to look much better. It made her only wonder how she could affect those dangerous creatures so much. She had already told them stories of how dangerous demons could be. She had called it 'Living with demon 101' but she had not been joking. Buffy had also been the one to assure them she was mortal like them, and that fact caused even more questions now after her display of anger. Something was up with Buffy Summers and with a quick look at Booth she knew he had noticed as well. She gave a calculating look at Spike. The vampire would answer a few questions but it had been made obvious from the start that he was very loyal to the girl. But then again any kind of information was good for her. She enjoyed puzzles and was determined to solve the one that was Agent Summers however long it took.

"What's with Summers?" Booth asked.

Spike turned to him wondering why he spilled the bins in the first place and ended up with the humans. He mentally cringed, knowing he would have to play nanny to them if they were to survive the night in these parts of town.

"I've never seen her so angry. Not even when some thugs threatened that mummy," Booth commented.

"You mean Aisisma?" Spike remembered. "She was a demon slayer and the body was protected with strong magic. In the wrong hands it could cause trouble."

"So, who is this 'Dead boy' character?" Angela inquired.

"Um, I'm not sure she wants you to know. But then again you know almost everything by now," Spike muttered mostly to himself. He thought over it for a while and soon reached to a decision.

'I know I'll regret it in the morning, but to hell with it,' Spike thought.

Turning to his audience he took an unnecessary breath.

"There was once a vampire cursed with a soul and his name was Angel…"

* * *

Buffy stalked away from the Lloyd's and towards the nearest demon, her senses on full alert, and her Slayer essence out for blood. By day break she had killed eleven vampires and a dozen demons and her anger had not grown less. Her clothes and hands were bloodstained, her hair loosened from its ponytail, and her eyes a thunderous gold like the demon she was furious over.

Her ghost/housekeeper gave her a dubious look when she turned in, just as sun cast its rays over the city.

"Rough night," she replied to the unasked question and the ghost shimmered away.

She entered her apartment and felt something that was not supposed to be there.

A tall figure moved in the darkness.

"Hey."

"Do you always make a habit of arriving uninvited to a place and break in?" Buffy snapped.

"Sorry."

"Don't bother."

"There's blood on you."

"Not mine."

A brief pause. "You're angry with me."

"How'd you guess?"

"Buffy…"

She gave a tired sigh and took off her jacket. "What do you want from me Angel?"

The vampire entered the dim light of dawn. She sucked in a deep breath. He had not aged a day. He was still as handsome as ever, though noticeably more tired.

"I missed you. I called two nights ago. You did not answer."

She mellowed down a bit. "Spike took me and my partners out for dancing."

"Oh."

"Why are you in town?"

"Davenport. Gunn was to come but I decided to take his place. It was a last minute impulse I had. I'm glad I did. You look good."

She let out a small laugh. "I'm sweaty, smell of blood and had a rough day at work."

"You always looked beautiful to me, especially after a good hunt," Angel told her with a half smile.

She rolled her eyes, although she was pleased by his reply. It brought back memories of happy times long past. She missed those days. Maybe Spike was right. She and Angel needed to talk. He had come to her so it was her turn to take a step and talk to him. "Look, I need a shower. It's dawn, so that means you're staying. There's blood in the fridge and I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee."

He nodded. "Take your time," he told her and headed for the kitchen.

* * *

**Jeffersonian Institute:**

Zack and Hodgins glared at Angela.

"What?" she demanded.

"You stayed up late again, I can tell," Hodgins told her. "What's the what?"

"I don't understand what you mean," she said quickly, going back to her notes.

"I can smell evasion from miles away missy. I want answers and I want them now," Hodgins told her.

"Now," Zack parroted, copying Hodgins pose.

Angela gave Zack an amused look.

"And here's where we study the bones," Brennan told Spike.

The trio turned their heads to see Brennan lead a blond, leather clad man their way. Booth was trailing behind them looking as if expecting the blond to bite her.

Angela's eyes were wide as she took in the picture.

"Who is that?" Zack questioned.

"Looks familiar," Hodgins muttered. "Especially his back."

Angela stifled a laugh. "That's Spike."

"The guy with Buffy at the Chinese restaurant?" Hodgins asked.

"One and the same," Angela confirmed.

Zack seemed a bit confused and anxious. "But he's a civilian. He should not be here!"

"Morning everyone!" Brennan approached the group. "You have not been properly introduced. This is Spike, he'll be with us today. And these two are Hodgins and Zack."

"Bug boy and geek boy," Spike replied.

Angela brought a hand to cover her mouth while Booth did not even bother with appearances and just laughed.

"Which one is the geek?" Zack asked Hodgins.

The older man glared him but chose not to answer because Angela's elbow connected with his ribs.

"Seriously, you have a nice place here," Spike told Brennan.

"The best of its kind," Zack replied proudly.

"Not really," Spike told him. "The one we have in LA beats this. And the one in London is even better."

"LA? London?" Booth asked. "Wolfram and Heart has a lab?"

Spike gave him an incredulous look. "Of course we do. Remember me and my family?"

"It makes sense," Brennan offered. "Like the Initiative, they must have their own facilities. But what was that comment about London you made?"

The vampire faltered. "Better ask Buffy that. Oh well, what do you do for fun around here?"

"Pick bones," Zack replied.

Spike gave him an odd look.

"Yes, he did just say that," Booth told Spike.

"You could take part in the betting pool," Hodgins offered. "Goodman just brought in a new body. We're trying to figure out the cause of death."

"You bet on this?" Booth exclaimed.

"How on Earth do I work with you people?" Angela muttered.

Spike shrugged. "Worth a shot."

Hodgins was excited as he showed Spike to the second table. In turn, the vampire did not even blink at the sight of the remains he met.

"Here are your clues," Hodgins started telling him. "The body was found by the pier. Female, late twenties. She wore her jewelry and expensive clothes. Possibly a blond. No obvious marks on the bones, no signs of struggle, no marks on the surviving skin."

Booth made a grimace.

"Now your verdict kind sir?" Hodgins told Spike.

"What's the score so far?" Brennan asked.

"Well, 10 insists on drowning, though there was no water in her lungs," Zack muttered the last part. "A good 35 thinks it's strangling yet there are no marks on her neck. A 20 thinks she was shot and the rest was asphyxiation. There were no head injuries or such wounds so another form of death is really not possible."

Booth and Brennan listened to Zack while observing the vampire. He did not go to close to the body, nor reached out for the tests or to touch it, despite the gloves Hodgins had offered.

"Staring at her won't solve the case," Hodgins commented airily.

Spike picked one of the gloves, put it on and then touched the body near the neck junction. After a moment or two he smiled.

Figures," he muttered.

Booth stood a bit straighter at his comment.

"She was sucked dry about half a week ago," the vampire revealed.

"Sucked dry?" Zack echoed.

"She went out partying in one of the raves that take place down at the warehouses by the pier, followed the guy out and died." Spike took a whiff of the body. "Actually, the killer was female."

Angela and Brennan stared at him half in awe half in doubt.

"You can tell that simply by taking a whiff of her?" Hodgins demanded.

Spike stared Booth in the eye. "I'll bet you it was Davenport."

"Then that means…" Brennan trailed off, mindful of her audience.

"You're coming with us," Booth told Spike.

"The hell I am!" the vampire protested.

"I want to come," Zack volunteered.

"Not a chance," Booth replied.

"Booth, Spike has a few technical difficulties," she whispered to his ear, pointing at the ceiling and the natural light that streamed in and had Spike dodging it while getting the tour of the place.

"Just wait six hours or so," Spike replied. He rubbed his hands and turned to Angela. "So, wanna grab some coffee?"

Brennan stared sideways at Booth.

"What?" he demanded.

She kept staring.

He sighed in exasperation. "Just out with it!"

"We should have waited for Spike. It's not dark yet."

"Precisely why we have nothing to fear, vampires roam the night, remember? It's still day outside."

Brennan hesitated. "I still don't like it. I have a bad feeling about this."

He rolled his eyes as he parked the car at the edge of the warehousing area. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out.

"Coming?"

"Fine."

* * *

**Buffy's Place:**

Angel sat across from Buffy, studying here with his dark eyes. She had kept silent during the process, occupied with a similar task.

"You've changed," he observed.

"New hair dye," she replied.

He offered a small smile. "Not that. I meant your powers. You feel different, stronger."

"I am," she simply told him.

"You're not excited by it," he noticed.

Buffy shrugged.

"You know you can tell me," Angel told her gently.

"I think something happened to me."

"What do you mean?"

"When Willow brought me back and then that spell that Called all those Slayers…" Buffy shook her head. She stood and walked to his seat. Then she crouched in front of him and looked right into his eyes. "Can you sharpen your claws?"

Angel nodded and turned his nails to the hard state they were when he let his demon forth.

Carelessly Buffy manipulated them into creating a slash on her lower arm.

"Buffy! Why did you just do that? Where's your first aid kit?" Angel demanded worriedly. It was small, but it bled steadily and what bothered him was that she had used him to hurt herself.

"Look."

Angel watched in shock the cut heal itself at a faster pace than it should. Soon, it was only a fading pinkish line.

"How?" he asked.

"That I'd like to know myself," she muttered.

"If it's only healing then it's not so bad," the vampire tried to sooth her.

"Add a boost in speed and power, more heightened senses, keener radar for vampires," Buffy shrugged. "I can slay five vampires in a mere three minutes. I never could do that before. Usually demons go out of their way to avoid me."

"It explains the low demonic activity," Angel murmured.

A pair of green eyes glared at him.

"Hey, I'm trying to digest here. This is big Buffy. What did Giles say?"

He was met with silence.

"Buff?" he started in a warning tone. "You didn't tell him?"

"Of course not! He has so much going on right now with all the Slayers to train and the new Watchers." She shook her head.

"How about Willow then?"

"She's trying to reconnect with Oz. I don't want to impose."

He shook his head. "You have to tell someone."

"I told you."

"Just me?"

She nodded. "Will you help me?"

"Do I have a choice?" he asked her.

She gave him her best 'puppy eyes'.

"Right, I didn't think so," he muttered.

* * *

**Harbor:**

Brennan followed Booth reluctantly until he stopped in front of the shabbiest warehouse in the area.

"Did I mention how I find this a very bad idea?" she muttered.

Booth rolled his eyes and turned to face her. "You did, about half a million times, yet you're still here."

"Someone has to call an ambulance in case you need it," she told him.

"I won't need an ambulance," he said.

"Then do I have permission to be the one to study your bones?" she asked in an all too innocent voice.

He pressed his lips together and made a move towards her before pulling back with a small laugh. "Oh, no. I won't give you the satisfaction. I'll just have to prove that nothing's wrong. We're here to collect evidence, that's all."

Brennan hung her head. "Lead on," she told him and Booth did just that.

They reached the warehouse with no problem and found the door ajar. Booth readied his gun and entered. Brennan hesitated, having a bad feeling about this, but ended up following Booth inside.

* * *

**Buffy's Place:**

Angel's cell phone rang and he gave Buffy a look of remorse before picking it up.

"What is it?" he asked a bit annoyed.

He listened for several minutes before hanging up without as much as a word.

"Who was it?" Buffy asked.

"Lloyd," Angel told her. "Eve Davenport was found drained an alley near his bar. She was just killed, not turned. Some flesh demons got to her."

Buffy grimaced. It was gross even if it did signal the case was closed without much fuss from them.

"So…"

"You have to leave," she finished for him.

He swallowed and shook his head. He had a chance here and he was not about to throw it away. So he decided to listen to Spike for once.

"I was thinking that I have not been in Washington before," he began. "I could use some vacation days. Care to show me the city?"

Buffy smiled brightly at him. "I'd love to."

* * *

**Jeffersonian Institute:**

Angela laughed at what Spike said while Zack was trying to decipher the joke and argued with Hodgins over it. They were sitting in Brennan's office since she and Booth had taken off. Spike had been worried and cursed several times before Hodgins had suggested some Irish coffee which had brought on new topic for discussion. It was lunch and Spike had suggested pizzas. She was still reeling at how much the blond could eat, even though he was dead. Up until the phone rang.

"Doctor Brennan's office, Angela Montenegro speaking."

Her face grew pale.

"Ange?" Spike asked alarmed. When she failed to respond he took the speaker from her.

"What's wrong?" he asked them.

He was more composed when he closed the phone but started cursing very soon.

"What happened?" Hodgins asked.

"Did someone die?" Zack asked.

Angela stood frozen and pale. Spike just dialed another number.

"Buffy? It's me. Brennan and Booth are in the ER. They found them near death at the pier."

* * *

**End of chapter**


	5. Meeting old friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow drops by for the holidays bearing bad news while the Booth and Brennan struggle to survive. Buffy's Past life meets her current one and the transition is not painted pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

** Joyce Summers School for gifted youngsters, London: **

Willow was taking a break from teaching overactive girls how to use their magical abilities. She was doing it since she was the most skilled Wicca the newly founded Council of Watchers had. Frankly, it was either this or training the rooky watchers and after seeing what Giles had gotten into she decided to pass. Now though she realized her position was just a tad better but not much.

"Those girls got you tired already?" Dawn asked with a smile.

Willow nodded in shame.

"I'll make you a cup of coffee," Dawn told her.

Willow gave her a grateful smile. "But aren't you supposed to be studying for your exams in Latin?" the Wicca asked.

"Well, I should, but after all the research for Giles I'm practically a walking Latin dictionary," the young woman exclaimed.

Willow chuckled. She accepted the coffee with a nod and went back to the papyrus she was reading with the magnifying glass.

"Ancient Egyptian?" Dawn asked.

"Nah, more like Mesopotamian," Willow replied. "At least every third line. This is worse than the Rosetta Stone!"

Dawn snickered and Willow glared at her.

"I'll leave you to your fun then. Oh, before I forget. Did Buffy call you this week?" Dawn asked.

"Hm? No. she e-mailed. Spike was visiting for a talisman of sorts. She sent Giles a picture of it. Why?"

"Nothing. Just Christmas is just around the corner and she promised we'd go to Milan together for shopping."

"You have got your priorities all wrong," Willow told her.

"She mentioned buying Prada shoes for you," Dawn informed her.

"I'll talk to her this evening," Willow replied.

"Thought so. See you then," Dawn said and left the office.

Willow spent her entire lunch hour in there. Just as it was time for the next period she read something that made her gasp.

She quickly reached out and dialed Giles.

"Willow? The girls cannot be annoying you that much today," Giles told her as a way of greeting.

"It's not about the girls. I found something you must see as soon as possible."

"I'll be there in half an hour."

* * *

** Tara Mclay clinic, Washington branch **

Angela paced the confines of the hospital. Zack and Hodgins had given up long ago trying to calm her. Buffy just sat in a far seat with Spike standing near her. They had been waiting for the doctors to come out. Brennan and Booth had entered the surgery five hours ago. It had been only seven hours after the call was made. The usual hospitals could do nothing so Angel had pulled some strings and the injured pair had been transferred here without delay. Here the doctors did not gape at the vampire bites; they just treated them like the experts they were. For once Buffy was glad the Quinton Travers had such an extensive hand in all businesses.

"What's taking so long?" Angela whispered for the up tenth time.

"They'll be just fine. This is the best place for them to be," Spike told her.

"I haven't been here before," Zack replied.

"Lucky you," Spike told him.

Hodgins just studied the environment quietly. From the lobby he could tell that this was not the average clinic. They were far to equipped to be just an ordinary institution and far too luxurious for forensic experts and FBI agents. Add to that that the doctors and nurses were all looking somewhat like each other, be that the hair or the face or even the eyes. Everything was just too perfect which meant only one thing; something just was not right here.

Spike tapped his foot on the floor. "They are done," he informed Buffy quietly.

"Yes. I no longer smell much blood," she whispered back.

Spike frowned. He wanted to ask how she could smell it in the first place but held back. Now was not the place for such questions. However he could ask others such as…

"Did you and Peaches talk thing through?"

"Stop calling him names," Buffy admonished.

"Yeah, yeah, but did you?"

She sighed. "We did."

"And?" Spike prompted.

"He's staying with me for a while," she replied.

Spike's eyes widened.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Just out with it Spike," she told him.

"Good luck pet."

"Thank you."

Goodman arrived in the hall and Zack and Hodgins stood.

"I just got away from a meeting with the commissioner," he told them. "What happened?"

"They went to search at a warehouse, a lead or something. It appears they were ambushed," Angela told him.

The archaeologist turned to Buffy who had by then joined them.

"We're already searching for the attackers," she assured him.

"And how is Brennan?" Goodman asked.

"The surgery is over I believe. They are coming out any moment now," Buffy told him.

"Thank you agent Summers," Goodman told her and went to wait with a distraught Angela.

Spike walked behind Buffy. "I'm leaving. It's going to be dawn soon."

Buffy nodded. "Wanna crash at my place?"

Spike grimaced. "With your boyfriend?" He dodged what would be a painful smack and then he shrugged. "I hold no responsibility if the place is left in shambles."

"There's food in the fridge," Buffy told him. "O negative and everything. Come on… I know you like it."

He rolled his eyes and turned to hide his fond smile. She really was something else, talking about blood as if it were her favorite ice cream brand.

"Fine!" he said and went to say his goodbyes.

* * *

** Joyce Summers School for gifted youngsters, London: **

Oz stretched and yawned as he walked into the room. The time difference was killing him at the moment. He had yet to get used to travelling so often in so many time zones.

Then he blinked. He had not expected to see Giles of all people sitting with Willow and studying while school was in session.

"Morning Oz, there's coffee in the pot. Help your-self to it," Willow told him, not lifting her head from the text.

He almost chuckled at the picture they made and the memories it brought forth from his high school years. That was until he took notice of the seriousness in their faces.

"Another Apocalypse?" he asked, sounding casual.

"Not yet," Giles replied in the same tone.

"But there will be when she finds out," Willow added.

Giles shuddered.

"I'm missing a few episodes here," Oz told them.

They both turned to face him properly.

"To sum it up, you two are going to Washington," Giles told the werewolf.

* * *

** At the docks: **

Angel expertly navigated his way through the shadows created by the approaching dawn.

He had been following the scent ever since the sun went down. It had not been easy. He was not familiar with the city and the blood was distracting him many times but he finally got on the right track.

"I can sense you Spike," he said aloud.

The blond came out in the open, a cigarette waiting to be lit.

"They're in here?"

Angel nodded.

"Good. I want to have a go at one of them," Spike said, his vampire face coming forth.

"Why are you so eager for blood now?" Angel asked of him.

The vampire sighed. "I really like them, the doc and the others, and Ange seems sad." Spike shrugged.

Angel nodded. "Let's just not leave anyone behind for Buffy. Her temper is bad enough as it is."

"Just lead the way Angel-cakes," Spike mocked.

* * *

** Next morning: **

** Tara Mclay clinic, Washington branch: **

Buffy looked up at the doctor. Booth shifted on the bed. He had just woken up from long hours of sleep that his body had needed to help heal him. He was still deathly pale since, even after the blood transfusion, his body had yet to recover. His face had many scratches, some of them stitched, the left arm broken, his head bandaged. He had asked about Brennan but Buffy knew nothing about her. Only one could visit at a time and Angela had a right to see her best friend.

The doctor, a tall, broad shouldered man with dark skin and warm eyes tinged grey called for their attention. "Agent Booth, since you are finally conscious it is time for you to know of your overall condition." The doctor sounded ominous and both agents cringed.

"Concussion on the head, near the temple, many cuts along your face, neck, hands and legs, some of them were deep gashes. We did a tetanus shot just in case." He consulted his pad. "You left arm is broken in several places and you probably won't be using it for the next two months."

Booth grimaced as he took a look at his arm. "I don't feel it."

"Which is a good thing. Tell us if the medication starts to wear off. Now on with the rest. Hm, we had to operate since there was a fang in your neck."

Booth looked alarmed at them. "About that fang…"

"We already gave it to Spike," the doctor told Buffy. "To help him track them down."

Buffy nodded and thanked them.

Booth looked a bit lost but the doctor gained his attention back as he relayed the rest of his injuries.

"A stab on the abdomen, not deep, but we had to patch you up, a sprained ankle and last, severe blood loss. They left you to bleed to death, not that you had a lot of blood left to begin with," the doctor finished. "I'll come check on you in the next three hours."

"Thank you," Buffy called out.

The doctor nodded and left.

"I really don't like the guy. His eyes are weird," Booth complained.

"He's half demon," Buffy told him.

Booth tensed. "You tell me now?"

"Relax partner." Buffy leant back on the chair. "He is a nice guy. This whole place belongs to a friend of mine. Most of the staff is half and half."

"They are still part demons," Booth complained.

"Thankfully." Buffy gave him a glare. "Who else would have treated you in the condition you were in and not asked question? Honestly, a fang?"

The injured man pondered over this. "I still don't trust the guy."

"Noted," Buffy told him.

Booth closed his eyes briefly, the medicine making him sleepy and his body screaming at him to rest.

"Spike went after them?" Booth asked.

"Yeah," Buffy confirmed.

"Alone? Cause those guys are serious."

"No… I have a friend staying over and they would meet there. Don't worry. They know how to take care of themselves. And with the anger they feel…" Buffy smirked. "Let's just say it's those vamps that should be afraid. Anyway, what you did was stupid to say the least."

He had a guilty expression. Then he asked again the question that had been bothering him for a while. "You honestly don't know about Temperance?"

Buffy noticed the use of the first name and held herself from smiling slyly at him. She was composed when she shook her head.

"Angela is with her. She was worse. They still have her sedated due to the pain."

"They attacked her first," Booth whispered. "She kicked one but they simply threw her against the wall like…I don't know, like she was a doll or something."

"Vampires are stronger than humans," Buffy repeated as she had a few nights ago.

"I never realized just how much," Booth admitted.

Buffy said nothing.

"I never thought we would make it," Booth continued. "When that guy bit her…I emptied a gun on him and the worse it did was making him bleed for a while. Then they were after me. I barely felt it when they bit my neck. Too busy clutching her neck to stop her bleeding."

He went on about how they were taunted, kicked and scratched.

"They were like animals…And kept saying what they would do to her." He paused. "They asked me how would I like it if I was kept alive so she could finish me off. They laughed as they described how they would turn her."

"At least you left the warehouse," Buffy told him.

"Pure adrenaline," Booth replied.

Buffy understood that perfectly.

"I think I saw Lloyd at one point," Booth told her.

"Um, you did. That neighborhood is a place for black market blood selling," Buffy said reluctantly. "He probably was there to buy supplies for his shop."

"That sounds wrong on many levels," Booth muttered.

"Well, you owe him now so don't go calling the cops, alright?" Buffy pleaded. Seeing his eyes drop she stood. "Just rest now. I'll go see Angela."

"Tell me as soon as you learn anything," Booth asked.

"I will."

Angela left her friend's room looking worse than before she entered. Buffy was waiting for her with a cup of coffee ready.

"Thanks."

"How is Brennan?" Buffy asked.

Angela pursed her lips tightly together. "Asleep."

Buffy waited a while.

"She was so pale," Angela whispered. "Almost dead."

"Don't go there," Buffy admonished.

"The doctor said that she lost too much blood. She was stabbed and bitten repeatedly. He said that she had many broken bones. Her face was a mess…They said her heart stopped at some point. She was dead. I never thought it would happen. Not to her. Sure she and Booth have gone through some tough situations together, but never against demons. All I can think is what if that Lloyd had not been there."

Buffy noticed how Angela seemed to hyperventilate and spoke up. "Stop there. She's going to be fine. She got away from them and the rest is just a matter of time."

"You seem so sure of it," Angela said with a tired smile.

"I got bitten once," Buffy told her. "Well, twice but that one time I really thought it was the end."

"And?"

"I died," Buffy told her. "I was sixteen. He drank until I was dizzy and threw me in a puddle of water where I drowned and was dead for a few minutes."

"I was not expecting that," Angela told her.

Buffy shrugged. "Point is, I'm here. Brennan is tough, she'll be alright."

"I want to believe you so much," Angela told her.

"Believe in her," Buffy told her.

Her cell phone rang and Buffy hurried to answer it.

"Summers speaking."

A frown marred her face.

A distant voice reached Angela. It belonged to a male.

"Thanks. To both of you," Buffy finally said. "I'll see you tonight."

"What happened?" Angela asked.

"A friend of mine. The ones that assaulted Brennan and Booth are dust."

"Dust?"

"They were staked. We won't have to worry about them."

"Good."

"It is. Listen, I need to get back to the office. Could you go see Booth? He's been asking about Brennan. The meds knocked him out for a while but he should wake up soon."

"Sure," Angela agreed.

* * *

** Buffy's apartment: **

The next two days were pretty much the same. During those, Brennan regained consciousness for a few minutes at a time but long enough to know that she would slowly recover. She was the only one that remained in the clinic since Booth was transferred to a federal hospital on his second day. Buffy was given deskwork for as long as Booth was bedridden, some of which she had to carry home, where Angel and Spike lived with her indefinitely. Their constant bickering and mock fights had her entertained for the time being so she did not complain as long as nothing was broken.

She only spoke to Angela and the rest of the Jeffersonian team on the phone since no new case had turned up just yet and it was on the third day that Angela called for her from the hospital.

"Sure, I'll come. But first I have to go and bring Booth. He was allowed to leave the hospital but he is still on leave until he recovers," Buffy told Angela.

"Sure, I'll be waiting for you two," the other woman told her.

Angel looked up from the book he was reading when Buffy gave him a quick hug before strolling into her room to get ready.

"Leaving already?" he asked her, not taking his eyes off the book.

"Yes, I need to speak with my partner and then go see Brennan."

"The forensic anthropologist," Angel remembered.

"Exactly."

There was only rustling of fabric and several curses until ten minutes later Buffy emerged dressed in jeans and a short cream leather coat. The vampire could smell gun oil on her. It had been unusual in the beginning, seeing Buffy with a gun. He could hardly imagine her behind a desk filling reams of paperwork and reports, but it was real.

She gave him a small smile. "I'll be back soon."

"Wanna eat out with me tonight?" Angel asked her.

She seemed startled. "Like a date?"

"Yes. A proper one. That means no cemeteries and fist fights," Angel told her.

"It's settled."

Spike came out of the kitchen after the Slayer left the premises.

"A date?" he echoed. "Could you go any slower?"

Angel glared at him.

"Fine! Sheesh! Forget I said anything," Spike muttered as he handed Angel his share of warmed blood.

The older vampire took it without a word.

"You look ready to head out," Angel observed.

"Yes. I'm going to the clinic to see the doc and Angela. They might want to hear how things got settled," Spike replied.

"Ah, yes. Buffy mentioned it. She did not like the fact that they know about demons now."

"Well, they still have no idea about the Slayer part," Spike told him. "Though it's getting harder for Blondie to hide it."

"She's still after a normal life," Angel mused.

"Or the dream of it. You felt her didn't you?" Spike asked the vampire who was for all purposes his mentor.

"I can almost taste it in the air around her," Angel agreed.

"Does she know what it is?"

"No and it scares her. She's too stubborn to call Giles."

Spike snorted. "Yeah, but that’s the appeal of her."

Angel nodded. He did not like the fact that Spike knew Buffy so well and intimately. But both claimed they were friends now and despite all his fights with the blond vampire he could not stake him. He was the only form of family he had left, as pathetic as that sounded.

"Leaving?" he asked Spike.

"Yes. The sun is not strong. I can make it there through the tunnels."

"I'm coming with you."

* * *

** Federal ** ** Hospital ** ** : **

Booth grunted when the nurse took out the needle that connected him to the serum. Then he stretched his uninjured arm with something akin to pleasure. Buffy was at the far side of the room, watching him in amusement. They waited for the nurse to leave and the door to close before Booth spoke up.

"You said the vampires are dust," he told her, intent on picking up the conversation from where they had last left it. He had wanted to know why his bullets, despite his amazing shooting skills, had done nothing to those demons.

Buffy thought it prudent to answer the question. He might need the knowledge to save his life. She also felt a tad guilty about not telling him how to fend a vampire off earlier.

"When a vamp dies, the demon leaves the body which in turn becomes dust. The Initiative found only carbon when they tested it so it's harmless. Well, unless you are into dark magic and necromancy but that's not really the point," Buffy told him.

Booth looked startled to hear her rumbling but decided to drop that for the moment and ask what he really wanted to ask for a while now.

"How do they turn to dust?"

"Believe it or not, all those movies are right on some things," Buffy told him with some amusement.

"You're kidding," Booth quipped. "A stake through the heart?" He snorted. "You'd have to be awfully close for that to happen. What else?"

Buffy nodded. "Fire, sunlight and beheading, but I doubt you carry a sword on a regular basis. Oh, and holy water can cause them severe burns, not enough to kill but enough to get you away from them."

Booth processed this. "How about garlic?"

"It can deter the younger ones for a while, but the older ones, like vampire masters, are barely affected by the odor. You might want to start carrying a cross with you."

"Do you carry one?" Booth asked her.

She reached for the silver chain and lifted the cross Angel had given her so he could see it. "I have a bigger collection of those thingies than the Vatican."

But Booth's eyes were trained on another spot.

"Your neck," he told her.

Buffy gave an odd look before realizing it was where Angel had bitten her all those years ago. She brought a hand up to cover the spot.

"Um, this is where I was bitten once. I was barely alive when I was taken to the hospital but I obviously recovered. Ready to go see Brennan now?"

Booth nodded, deciding he really needed to check her medical files some day in the future. He had a feeling they would prove to be an interesting read.

* * *

** Tara Mclay clinic, Washington branch: **

Spike entered the lobby with ease. He turned back to see Angel. He was just starting to take notice of the smells.

"Brennan's room," Spike told the receptionist.

Angel narrowed his eyes at the female.

Once they were in the elevator he turned to the younger vampire.

"Was that-?"

"Yes, Peaches. A half-Brachen demoness, like that Irish friend of yours. Giles and the rest of the Scooby’s have many of them working in a few of the branches. We don't have to answer awkward questions that way and they don't need to hunt for food as they get paid."

"I get it. And stop calling me Peaches," Angel snapped at him.

Spike just beamed at him.

The doors opened and they got down on the right corridor.

"What door?" Angel asked.

"Room 79," said the blond vampire.

They set off in the right direction.

It was not hard to find the room.

"I'll wait outside," Angel told him.

Spike nodded and stepped in.

The dark haired vampire stood, back against the wall.

"You look better," a woman said from the side.

Angel lifted his head and saw a woman with mild Asian characteristics staring at him expectantly.

"Excuse me?" said the Vampire.

The woman rolled her eyes and stepped closer to him. "Cut it out Booth," she told him. "Are you here to see Temperance?"

"The Brennan woman?" Angel asked.

He received a weird look.

"Are you okay? Are you sure you should be out of bed?"

"You must have me confused with someone else," Angel told her with a timid half smile.

Angela gawked at him. Then she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever."

She grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the room that Spike had gone into before he could react.

Spike sat in the chair sharing a joke with a pale woman that rested on the bed. The room was full of flowers and 'get well' balloons and numerous cards.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Angela told them with a smile.

"Booth?" Brennan asked.

Spike gaped at them.

"I'm not Booth! I don't even know the guy!" Angel protested.

Spike chuckled.

"Spike?" the females asked.

The vampire rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright! Well this guy here…"

He never got to finish his sentence since the door opened and Buffy came in, followed by a looking worse for wear Seeley Booth.

"Oh, bugger," Spike muttered as the two almost identical men came face to face with each other.

* * *

** Jeffersonian Institute: **

A werewolf and a witch made their way to director of the Institute.

"We could at least have gone to Buffy's first," Oz spoke up.

"I know," Willow sighed. "But we have no time. We need to have that box. You know how Giles is."

The man sighed tiredly and nodded.

When they reached the office of the director they were admitted almost instantly.

"I'm Daniel Goodman, the director of this Institute," the man behind the desk told them.

"My name is Willow Rosenberg and this is my partner Daniel Ozbourn," the witch said with a smile.

"Yes, how was your flight?" the director asked them.

"Tiring but we travel a lot so it did not come as a surprise," Oz told him.

"Really?"

"Yes, name a continent and we've been there," Willow said with a warm smile.

Her charm worked because the man was openly relaxing.

They spoke a while longer, discussing their portfolios and the areas they excelled and the positions he had open.

"Currently we are having several projects in collaboration with the FBI," Goodman told them. "In one of the missions our forensic anthropologist was injured and was hospitalized. She will remain there for another month or so. But even after that, we do need extra help and not only with the government. Several of our historical projects have been postponed because we have no one to authenticate the bones. It seems that you Ms. Rosenberg and Mr. Ozborn are the perfect candidates."

The two friends smiled.

"Welcome to the forensic department of our Institute," Goodman told them. "I'll get you down to our labs. Now your identities have to be checked by the Bureau before you are given a pass for the working area, but I believe Hodgins can at least give you a tour for now."

"A tour would be great," Willow replied.

"Shall we start then?" said Goodman rising from his seat.

He escorted them to the forensic labs, all the way explaining things about their work and the people of the department.

"I've heard about Temperance Brennan," Willow remembered. "Her thesis on the basic steps of forensic anthropology and the progress of identification was amazing."

"She wouldn't respond to me for days," Oz remembered.

Goodman chuckled. "Then you'll be fine here… Ah, Zack!" he called out.

A young man turned and looked their way. He was holding a stack of transparent boxes that were holding human remains.

"Yes, professor Goodman," Zack readily replied.

"These are Ms Rosenberg and Mr. Osborn. They will join our forensic team and I'm looking for Hodgins to give them a tour."

"He's studying some soil samples in the main lab," Zack replied.

"Then could you show them the way?" Goodman asked.

"Sure," Zack said. "This way."

When they were away from Goodman Zack seemed more likely to talk to them.

"I don't recognize your names. What field are you into?" he asked them.

"I have studied enough to be a coroner," Willow replied. "But I have a degree in forensics."

"I'm more like a computer guy," Oz replied. "But I do pretty much everything."

"That's…vague," Zack commented.

"We are here mostly to assist and be trained," Oz explained.

"Oh. Well, here we are," he said when they reached the lab. The three tables were all occupied but Hodgins was working only on one of them.

"Zack, did you find the bones?" Hodgins asked.

"Yes, but Professor Goodman asked that you give them a tour," Zack replied.

Hodgins actually looked up. He studied the newcomers. "He did?"

Zack nodded.

He pushed back his chair and stood, taking off his gloves and shaking hands with them.

"Well, since he said so, let's get started," he told them. "I'll show you some of the labs and the common office. The team is led by doctor Temperance Brennan, who is at the moment hospitalized due to an accident on duty. We usually work with the Feds, which makes our lives much more interesting, and especially one agent, Seeley Booth. Now, we have Angela Montenegro, who reconstructs faces from practically nothing. She is visiting Brennan. Our last addition is another FBI agent, Summers. Currently all FBI cases are on hold and we have all those bones from excavations to continue with," he said.

Willow fought hard to keep a straight face at the familiar names. She felt envious of Oz; the werewolf was the epitome of stoicism.

"So, where were you before here?" Hodgins asked.

"Tibet," Oz replied.

"Britain," Willow replied.

* * *

** Tara Mclay clinic, Washington branch: **

The people in the room were in a standoff.

Angel and Booth were staring at each other, sizing one another, studying.

Brennan and Angela were divided between the two.

"Are there really two of them or is it the concussion speaking?" Brennan asked.

"Unless there're two of them I must have banged my head so hard that I forgot all about it," Angela replied.

Buffy had her eyes closed in resignation. The Powers must be laughing their heads off right now. One look at Angel's face showed he was sharing the same opinion as her. The rest of the breathing people were utterly confused by the sight, as it was expected. Only Spike seemed to be having a huge blast. He was leaning back against the wall chuckling at how it had turned out.

"I really need an explanation," Booth muttered. "Who is this guy?"

"That I would also like to know," said Brennan.

"Count me in," said Angela.

"Will you stop laughing?" Booth demanded of Spike.

"Why are you laughing?" Brennan asked.

"This is hilarious," he told them. "Oh, god, your faces!"

"Will you shut him up?" Booth asked of Buffy. "It's not that funny!"

"Spike, please," Buffy asked him.

"Are you his long lost brother or something?" Angela asked Angel.

This caused another fit of laughter from Spike and this time even Buffy snorted.

"No!" Angel protested loudly, gaining odd looks.

"He's not!" the FBI agent said at the same time. Hearing Spike snickering he gave him a hard look. "And what's so damn funny?" Booth asked.

"Buffy," Brennan demanded.

She groaned. "Do I have to?" Buffy asked with a whine.

It was Angel who pressed her this time, his usual resigned, warm eyes giving her a hard look she knew too well. He wanted answers and wanted them fast.

"The guy who looks like a punch bag is FBI agent Seeley Booth," Buffy told him. "He's my partner in the Bureau. And guys, this is Angel…um, what was your last name again?"

This time the vampire smiled. "Sullivan," he replied.

"Angel," Brennan muttered. That was somewhat familiar but she had difficulty finding where she had heard that before. It should not be too long ago. But the way her head hurt made her groan and give up. She could try later, after the introduction was over and certainly after a good rest.

"Angel," Booth repeated. "That sounds girly."

Spike snorted while Angel glared at both men.

Angela was the only one who saw Angel's eyes glow gold for a moment and she took a step back.

"I would not repeat that sentiment if I were you," Angel said with a shark like smile.

The humans were able to see canine fangs lengthen and greet them.

Booth winced.

"What are you?" Angela asked with a hint of fear. The guy was sexy as hell, even more so than Booth, slightly taller, younger, and obviously darker. And that smile was definitely bad news.

"Are you a demon like Spike?" Brennan asked.

"No, not like William," Angel replied, turning to face her. "He's too young."

They saw Spike grimace but the blond said nothing, not one sarcastic comment or joke.

"I am a vampire, yes, but I have an alliance of a sort with Buffy here," Angel told her. "Also you would like to know that the one's that attacked you are taken care of."

Brennan nodded awkwardly. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Angel replied.

"So you are not brothers," Angela muttered.

"Obviously," Booth sulked.

"Maybe he's a decedent," Brennan suggested.

"Not possible," Angel told her.

"You can't be sure. Maybe he's your grand child or something," Angela said.

The vampire was annoyed. He did not like that Booth character and all his questions. And for that reason he decided to keep them off his back. Then he could see about keeping the guy away from Buffy.

"It's not possible because when I was turned I killed all my family up to third degree and most of the town," Angel told her.

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

"Oh," Angela said her face paling.

Buffy grimaced. This was certainly not going well.

* * *

** Buffy's Apartment:  **

Willow did not even blink when Buffy's housekeeper blinked out of sight.

"That's handy," Oz commented. "She doesn't even pay insurance."

The Wicca laughed. "Yeah, she came with the building though. Cordelia shared a flat with a ghost once," she added.

Oz nodded. "I think that growing up in Sunnydale made my logic different than common logic," the werewolf mused.

"Or more paranoid, whacked up and cynical," Willow offered.

"That too."

They saw a car pull up on the drive way, Buffy in the driver's seat.

"She has improved her driving skills," Willow commented.

"Are you sure?" Oz was uncertain.

"She didn't step on us," the redhead chirped.

"That's true."

"Guys?" the Slayer looked at them in surprise.

The two females let out delighted squeals and rushed to hug each other tightly.

"Oh, Goodness!" Willow exclaimed.

"Whatever, are those highlights?" Buffy asked her.

"You noticed? I wanted to add a new look, blond is not really my color and black, well, bad vibes, so I said, why not add more red?"

"Oh, Wills! How I missed you!"

"Missed you too Buffy."

Oz watched the exchange dispassionately as the two friends hugged and started chatting in their own special Scooby way. That was how he noticed the two vampires exit the car. He had almost expected the blond, but Angel was certainly a surprise.

"Hey," Oz muttered.

The vampires nodded in greeting.

"Angel!" Willow exclaimed. "You're here!"

The tall vampire smiled kindly at her.

"I'm here too Red," Spike grumbled.

The Wicca gave the blond vampire a hug. "Sorry Spike, but he was much more surprising than you."

"What are you guys doing here?" Buffy asked them. "Not that I'm not glad to see you both, phones don't do much for me, but it certainly is unexpected."

The pair sobered as they fully turned to the Slayer.

"Well, something has come up," Willow told her. "I think you need to be inside, sitting on a couch to hear this; preferably with lots of ice-cream."

"What's wrong?" Angel asked worriedly, his eyes glancing at Buffy as he did so.

Willow fidgeted. "Um, Giles uncovered a stack of scrolls in Sumerian and Mesopotamian, or Aramaic, it's difficult to tell since the two are so very alike and…"

"Willow, you're rambling," Oz supplied.

The Wicca flushed and stopped talking. She took a deep breath. "The scrolls are prophecies by the hand of one of the Shadow men concerning an Armageddon."

"Like the Codex," Buffy commented.

"Kinda," Willow admitted.

"What does that have to do with you being here?" Spike asked.

Willow stared at her best friend.

"Me," Buffy said resigned. "The prophecy is about me."

Angel paled. "Not again."

"We are not sure!" Willow rushed to explain. "The text is not preserved well, chunks are missing or faded and each line is written in a different dialect, so translating it might take a while."

"So it's not about Buffy," Spike said.

"No, it is stated clear in the first paragraph. That's how far we have interpreted the text so far." Willow's shoulders were slumped. "We came to the Jeffersonian because Goodman and a few others are experts in translating these texts."

"We better get inside," Angel told them. "Then Willow and Oz can tell us more about it."

"And I need that ice-cream," Buffy mumbled.

Angel nodded and pulled her into a loose hug as they entered the building.

* * *

** End of chapter **


	6. Days go by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow relays the context of the prophecy so far. Buffy gets two new roommates and the Jeffersonian stuff is increased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

** Buffy's Apartment: **

Buffy sat on the same sofa as Willow while the rest of the guys were sprawled on different furniture in the room. The Slayer served coffee for the two new comers as well as the Vampires, while she had a bowl of ice-cream in front of her for comfort as the group sat in silence. It was obvious Willow was rather nervous and Oz's face was more impassive than usual, which for Buffy meant serious trouble.

"Okay," Buffy spoke up. "This must be pretty serious for you two to be here so I need to hear it. No evasions, no lies, just the truth."

Willow swallowed but nodded anyway. She explained that she and Giles had been studying the scrolls they had received from Perseus Wyndam-Pryce only to find out a whole new line of prophecies in encoded writing. Some of the scrolls had been in good condition while others looked like they were just about to disintegrate.

She spoke of the dodgy translation she had managed to do and her findings of them as well as the assumptions she and Giles had made about them.

"So… another prophecy," Spike muttered.

"Kinda," Willow admitted.

"Am I going to die?" Buffy asked bluntly.

The red haired witch was nervous as she rushed to explain that from the wording all they could deduce was that the scripts were indeed a series of prophecies, most of them canceled by other prophecies their organization knew about and the only thing certain was the main person they revolved around.

"Are you certain it is Buffy?" Angel asked.

"It spoke of the 'Princess of huntresses that protects the light of dawn' and it went on like that with several references to demon hunting, afterlife and the end of the world," Willow admitted. "It was not whole but it spoke of things that were familiar to us. Me and Giles asked help from Wesley as well and he came to the same result us we did." She took a sip of her coffee, hands nervously playing with the porcelain.

Buffy looked intently at the ice-cream in her bowl she suddenly lost all appetite for.

"It also mentioned the 'Ripe of aging' I believe," Oz added.

Willow nodded. "I think it has little to do with age and a lot about some new power you might develop," she admitted to Buffy. "I think the Scythe might have another use or something. I've sent word to Megumi, our Watcher for Kyoto in Japan. They had the Scythe as a Master Vampire tried to create a village of un-dead and things got wild there. I'll transport myself there as soon as they are finished to get it back."

However Oz was studying Buffy in that philosophic way of his. "Then again the power has nothing to do with weapons and everything to do with the Slayer herself," the werewolf spoke up.

"That too," Willow agreed.

"Buffy," Spike cleared his throat. He sent the blonde a look.

"What?" Willow asked.

The Slayer rolled her eyes and placed the bowl on the coffee table before meeting everyone's expectant eyes.

"I think I know what that catchy phrase is trying to tell us."

The rest of them focused their attention entirely on her.

* * *

** Tara Mclay clinic, Washington branch: **

Brennan was happy to see Goodman enter with Zack, Hodgins and Angela. She pushed the tray with her finished dinner a bit and took the pudding in her hands.

"You look awful," Hodgins commented.

Angela poked him on his ribs and then went to her friend's side.

"Ignore him sweetie, he's just jealous of the pudding."

"That I am," the man admitted.

"Booth already tried to get it," Brennan said with a smile.

"That spoon is a lethal weapon," Booth told them as he also joined them.

"These flowers are for you," Goodman told Brennan as he left the vase he carried by the bedside table.

"Thank you," the injured woman told him.

"I spoke to the doctors," Booth told them. "They will let you go in two days but they said you needed to rest for at least a week more, your body was a bit drained…of energy," he added quickly.

"I'm starting to get bored," Temperance admitted. "My brother was here to see me after Buffy left but I still feel bored." She turned to Goodman. "Could I have one of the cases to work on?"

The older man smiled.

"You must recuperate doctor so that means no work for you at least not until you have written permission from a doctor."

"I'm not a child," she replied a bit put upon.

The rest of them smiled and Angela decided to offer her a way out. "You could work on your new book a bit. You said you were a bit behind on the dead lines."

"I finished it already," her friend told her.

"Start another one then," Booth offered.

I could do that," Temperance admitted.

"Or rest," Hodgins put in. "See a movie. Read a book."

She shrugged. "I guess."

"It's only a week," Booth told her.

"We have new members on our team," Zack spoke up.

The anthropologist immediately took interest and the conversation steered that way.

* * *

** Buffy's Apartment: **

"Wow," Willow gasped. Then she recovered. "Giles will have a fit. Dawn too, but Giles might even yell!"

Buffy's shoulders slumped. Can we not tell him for a while? Like for another century?"

"Buffy," Willow exclaimed.

"Sorry," she grumbled. "Still, I really need some more time.

"I guess," Willow relented.

"Thank you," Buffy told her.

"But only a week or so," the witch told her.

"Just until I can build up my courage," Buffy assured her, ignoring Spike's mocking smile.

Oz blinked. "You certainly know how to never lead a boring life," he told her.

Buffy snorted. "I'd beg for even a day of boredom."

"Nah," Spike dismissed her. "You have too much energy to just sit and do nothing."

"Still, I can think of other ways to stay energetic and avoid boredom," the Slayer grumbled. "Why a prophesy?"

"There, there," Willow mocked.

Buffy glared at her but stopped when she saw how Willow was itching to say something. "Spill Wills."

"So can you show me what you can do?"

"Without using my claws to cut yourself open," Angel warned.

Buffy nodded and prepared for a demonstration.

* * *

** A week later: **

** Jeffersonian Institute: **

Buffy entered the area Brennan's team worked in. they had another case and as Booth was back in action, they were again relying on Brennan's team and the anthropologist herself.

Temperance had lasted three days doing nothing work related and as soon as Angela let it slip accidentally of a case, she demanded to be involved, bending even Goodman on this. So while the doctors of the clinic refused to have her work, she settled on a live conference with the team as she sat on her home's sofa, recovering.

Willow , as part of the team was, Brennan's hands much to Zack's disappointment. Oz was in the background with Angela, the two of them making the variables for the reconstruction of the face.

"So definitely murder," Booth spoke up.

"The marks on the bones so the entry of the bullet wound and it is obvious it came from a long distance and with great speed. There is no way this person committed suicide. Where was he found again?"

"The Cathedral," Buffy replied. "Just as the church was being renovated. The workers found the bones."

"It's a tough neighborhood there," Booth added. "As soon as Angela gives us a face we will work on finding anyone who knew this man. How long was he dead exactly?"

"Four years at least. The tissue is no longer on the bones and the bugs and ground samples dictate that the disintegration took place long ago and the body was buried there undisturbed," Hodgins replied and went further with his results.

"How do you bury a body in a church?" Zack wondered.

"That's easy," Buffy and Willow said at the same time.

The rest stared.

"Never mind," Buffy muttered.

"Okay…" Booth replied as he went back to listening to the findings.

The two friends avoided eye contact.

For the sake of Willow's research they pretended to know nothing of each other although they were roommates, Oz and Willow living a floor below her apartment. It was odd and Buffy felt a bit uncomfortable with lying to her new associates after all the sharing of the previous month.

So far their snooping got them nowhere except to the conclusion that Buffy was like a 'Super-Slayer', as Willow noted and the time to contact Giles was coming closer.

* * *

Oz checked his watch with a grimace.

They were the last people in the lab with Willow and hurrying to leave as the rest of them had long gone.

The translating programs of the institute were helpful in uncovering the meaning of more lines from the prophesy but they were moving too slow for their like.

"Hurry up, Will," he urged.

She nodded.

The sun was almost setting and Oz needed to be locked up as the full moon was that very night.

In Tibet he had learned to partially control the wolf so that the demon would not hurt his friends, but that did not put a damper on the transformation one bit. Oz had left before finishing the studies with the monks, with the intention of going back later to learn to hold back his transformation a bit.

Willow nodded at him, got her bag and coat and they both practically ran to the parking lot, gritting their teeth whenever a familiar late night worker appeared. They dismissed quickly the three people that got in their way but unfortunately not quickly enough.

They were in the parking lot, about to start the car when the sun disappeared and Oz kicked the door open.

"Wait until Giles sees the bill for that one," Willow groaned as the door flew several feet away. She placed a barrier around them to avoid any noise escaping and scanned around to see if anyone was near, only a short pink glow giving away the brief spell. Thankfully they were alone. She watched impassively as Oz transformed into the snarling, furry creature, wincing at his sounds of pain.

When the transformation settled, Oz was a sore, but a tame werewolf that stared up at his girlfriend with humanity in his beastly eyes.

"You are explaining this one," she scolded.

Oz the werewolf glanced at the door and bared his fangs in a smile.

She rolled her eyes.

"Just get in the car," she said with a small smile.

Oz was about to do so when he snarled at something.

Willow frowned.

"What's wrong? Oz?"

She saw him focused behind her and felt like an idiot. "Someone is standing behind me right?" she said tiredly. She lowered the sound barrier with a click of her fingers.

"What the hell is happening here?"

Willow turned around to face the music.

* * *

** End of Chapter **


	7. A secret for three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

** Next Day: **

** Buffy's Apartment:  **

Oz served the French toast at the expectant plates of the group that were sitting at the table.

Willow was next to him, serving coffee, a dazed look on her face.

Spike raised an eyebrow at the pair that looked more sombre than usual.

"Did anything happen?" he asked them.

Willow stiffened but then continued with her task. "Why do you ask?"

"It’s like someone’s died," Spike retorted. "Even Peaches here is livelier!"

Angel glared at Spike.

"It's the truth!" the bleached vampire replied.

"Nothing's wrong," Oz replied.

"What he said," Willow pointed at the werewolf.

Buffy shuffled in the kitchen. She had just shrugged her jacket on and tried to put on her shoes as well.

"I'm late!" she exclaimed. "Is there coffee?"

The witch snorted. "Can you imagine a day without it?"

Buffy smiled at her and accepted the cup Oz gave her. She took a couple of sips and then dashed out, collecting bag and keys on the way.

"See you guys later!"

"I better go to work," Willow stuttered.

Oz stood and left after her.

"I feel like a leech. Everyone else is working," Angel commented to Spike.

"You already drank blood," the blonde vampire told him, "No other similarities are needed."

"You are not funny," Angel told him.

"Like you are an expert in humor," Spike muttered.

* * *

** Jeffersonian Institute: **

Willow was working with Zack, all the while feeling a pair of eyes pinned on her. It unnerved her quite a bit. And thinking back on what happened she wanted to flee the country. She snuck a peek at Oz, who was working with Angela, the brunette explaining her program simulator.

'It could have gone better,' Willow groaned mentally.

* * *

**_ Flashback _ **

_ Oz the werewolf glanced at the door and bared his fangs in a smile. _

_ She rolled her eyes. _

" _Just get in the car," she said with a small smile._

_ Oz was about to do so when he snarled at something. _

_ Willow _ _ frowned. _

" _What's wrong Oz?"_

_ She saw him focused behind her and felt like an idiot. "Someone is standing behind me right?" she said tiredly. She lowered the sound barrier with a click of her fingers. _

" _What the hell is happening here?"_

_ Willow _ _ turned around to face the music. _

" _Good evening," Jack Hodgins greeted. His voice was steady, but the sweat on his brow belied his cool._

" _Hey," Willow smiled as she tried to block the view of fresh human meat from werewolf- Oz. "Fancy meeting you here."_

_ Hodgins swallowed. "Not to be nosy or anything, but… Is that a big, hairy monster behind you? Cause I thought I saw Oz standing right there a couple of moments before." _

_ The red haired Wicca swallowed hard. "Er, I can explain that; I really can." _

_ Hodgins stared. _

_ Oz growled at the male and Willow winced. She knew the werewolf was agitated and ready to pounce on the other male. She cursed in her mind repeatedly. _

" _Can we discuss this another time?" she said urgently._

_ But the bearded man looked like he would not be moving any time soon. _

_ The werewolf growled again and Willow turned around to face him. _

" _Knock it off Oz. Hodgins is not a threat or competition. He's pack."_

_ The growling did not stop but it did tone down. _

_ Willow _ _ focused back on her new co-worker.  _

" _Sorry, he's a bit edgy tonight. First day of the full moon and all." she swallowed._

" _I think I'm dreaming," Hodgins commented. "Because I think that Oz turned into a monster and with the full moon and all one would say that he turns into a werewolf." He laughed. "But this is the real world and not some bad movie." He paused. "Could it be a very well set prank?"_

_ Willow _ _ shook her head. "Sorry." _

" _Oh," Hodgins. "So he's a werewolf."_

" _Breathe," Willow told him. "And lean on a car or something. When I found out I was dizzy even though I was sitting."_

" _Okay," her colleague said but she could see him going pale._

_ Oz bared his fangs and whined. The witch rubbed her temples. It had taken a while and reading plenty of books on canines before reaching a state where she could understand some of the noises her friend made when in his werewolf form. _

" _Listen, I have to get Oz home and to his raw steak. Could you just go home and rest and we could talk about this some other time? We do work together you know."_

_ Hodgins nodded. "Okay." He glanced at Oz. "Will you be okay?" _

_ Willow _ _ smiled. "He would never attack me. Don't worry. See you at work." _

_ Jack only watched as they got into the car and drove away. _

**_ End Flashback _ **

* * *

"I'll get some coffee," Willow announced to Zack.

The young man nodded without lifting his head.

"I like coffee," Oz said and followed Willow away from her work area.

Jack Hodgins made a sound of agreement. "I could use a break too. See you later guys."

Angela frowned, taking the trio’s behavior for exactly what it was, a tactical retreat. But for what reason she was not certain.

"Did you see that Zack?" she asked her only other colleague in the area.

"Yes, the skull has a thin fracture line above the left eye," the young anthropologist said.

Angela groaned. "You are really unbelievable Zack."

"I hear that a lot," Zack replied.

"I bet you do," Angela whispered and went back to her work.

* * *

** Brennan's apartment: **

Temperance was bored to tears. She had gone through several cases for Booth, but since she was confined to her house and as a result could only move from her bed to her couch, she could only work by looking at coronary reports and the evidence from forensics. It was like a puzzle with many missing pieces and as she hated guessing she could only tell Booth so much.

Yet the agent, who had finally returned back to the field, pressed for a response.

"Just a guess," Booth smiled at her.

She smiled back but it was rather shark-like.

"I will not repeat myself again after this: I do not guess or make any kind of assumptions."

Booth groaned. "I need a lead you know."

"And I need to get back to work but Goodman is being stubborn."

"It's just a few more days," her partner told her.

"I feel like a criminal about to be discharged."

"Interesting comparison," the FBI agent said. Now give me something to work on! Buffy is assigned to another case with another partner since I was in the hospital too. I won't get her back until she's done and without your help I feel blind."

The anthropologist smiled. "Normally compliments work but never on me."

"I had to try," Booth admitted.

She smiled and went back to studying the x-rays.

* * *

** Cafeteria: **

There was an awkward silence at the table where Willow, Oz and Jack Hodgins sat. They had all ordered something because they needed something normal to focus on and not because they really needed the caffeine.

"So," Jack started. He pointed at the pair and then took a deep breath. He knew what he wanted to ask them. He had thought about it all night, after he had calmed down with the help of a bottle of vodka. He knew what he had witnessed but the logic he had based his life on so far made it difficult for him to grasp the secret he had learned. It had been overwhelming to say the least. "I know what I saw. You know what I saw. But why did I see that?" he leaned closer to them, mindful of other patrons in the surrounding area. He lowered his voice before speaking again. "Werewolves are fiction. Like Dracula and Frankenstein's Monster and Casper."

"Actually, from everything you said only Casper is fictional," Willow cut in. "But ghosts in general are real."

"Dracula?" Hodgins gasped.

Oz and Willow shared a look.

"Well, how much do you want to learn?" Willow asked him. "And I would prefer it if you asked instead of trying to find out on your own. It is not very safe to ask about those things."

"Meaning it is deadly dangerous," Oz told Hodgins.

"I can? No classified information and the like?" the bug expert asked rather hopefully.

Willow smiled.

"Fire away."

Jack smiled.

* * *

** End of chapter **


	8. Our Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bones (TV), nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Jeffersonian Institute…**

Buffy smiled as the group greeted Brennan back from her recovery. The anthropologist was still pale but her wounds had healed and only faint lines of scratches remained; those about to be healed as well. She was back in the lab and the group had thrown a small party for her. The woman smiled at the attention and received the ‘special’ cup of coffee from her FBI partner for years, Booth. Buffy, Willow and Oz observed the scene with half smiles.

“It’s good to be so carefree,” Willow said wistfully.

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “Did you settle in well?”

“Yes,” her friend smiled. “It was a good idea to purchase flats instead of houses or apartments. I like having the space.” She stole a peek at Oz. “We both do.”

“I bet you are,” Buffy teased.

The pair blushed and the Slayer went to congratulate Brennan on her recovery.

* * *

**Sewer System…**

Spike cursed as he felt the dirty water on his trench coat.

“I told you we were going under the city,” Angel reminded him.

“Shut it,” the blond vampire hissed.

Angel rolled his eyes. “We are near.”

“We are?”

The dark haired vampire pointed at the skulls of demons that littered the floor.

They both got out their weapons, Angel an axe and Spike a sword.

“Remind me again why blondie would not join us?”

“She has a day job,” Angel replied.

“So do we…Most of the time.”

“Yes, but our day job starts after sundown.”

“You have an answer for everything,” Spike grumbled, hating how smug Angel sounded. He bypassed what looked like a dead rat and tried to think of something to talk about with the older Vampire. “So how are things going between the two of you? You and Buffy I mean.” He hoped he sounded nonchalant

Silence from the other end.

“That bad?” Spike teased.

“It’s not bad,” Angel contested. “We’re just taking it slow.”

The younger vampire snorted. “Right…”

“We are. Even if Willow assured us of the nullifying of the clause in my curse, we decided we are not going to rush this.”

Spike started laughing. “You are house trained!”

“I’m not a dog.”

“You act like one. If I were you I would grab her and show her who the boss is.”

The older Vampire threw a glare his way but Spike just smiled cheekily.

“It’s Buffy,” Angel said, defending his past and future girlfriend, a bit too defensively, because he recalled that his Childe had at one point been with the blonde Slayer. He tried to suppress the rage that wanted to take over at the mere reminder. That was all in the past, after all. “She’s always the boss.”

“Woof,” Spike leered and ducked at the punch the dark haired Vampire sent his way.

“I can do without your commentary,” Angel told him.

The peroxide blond snorted. “I can’t. So what’s this whole ‘going slow’ approach entail?”

“A date.”

Spike stopped walking. “You and Buffy are going on a date?”

“Yes,” Angel replied.

“I better call the troops; we have an apocalypse coming. You lot can’t go on a simple date without something going wrong,” Spike told him and walked in front of Angel, the older vampire following with a sigh.

* * *

**End of the day, Jeffersonian…**

Booth noticed Buffy rushing to leave for the night.

“Aren’t we in a hurry?” he asked casually.

“Are you going anywhere?” Angela asked

“I have a date,” Buffy replied. She could not help it. She was excited.

Angela smiled, happy about the blonde woman and a tad curious. “Date? Anyone I know? Preferably hot and studly?”

“Ladies,” Booth groaned. “Spare me the details.”

“Like you don’t want to know,” Hodgins piped up as he walked past them. He grinned Buffy’s way. “I wanna hear.”

The Slayer rolled her eyes. “No, I’ll keep this one to myself,” she tells them and turns an apologetic look at Angela. She would have loved to discuss this with a girl. Considering Willow was too busy, Angela was the next best thing since Brennan, for all her brains was not what one would call a social person. She waved goodbye at them all and walked out of the labs and towards the parking lot.

Angel was already there, waiting for her, a bouquet of roses and daisies clutched in his hands. The Vampire was nervous and he was smiling at her tenderly. Buffy’s face broke into a grin.

“Hey,” Angel greeted her when she was close enough.

“Hey to you too, mister tall guy. Are those for me?”

He nodded, kissing her lips chastely and then handing her the flowers. Buffy cannot help herself and takes a whiff.

“Mm,” she hums and he chuckles.

“Ready for tonight?” Angel asks and she grins.

He offers a hand and she accepts.

“Where to?” she asks.

“Don’t worry, I have everything planned,” Angel assures her.

And he has, from the play he takes them, to the restaurant and later to the club and much later when he is all over her, kissing her and caressing her, Buffy thinks this is the best date ever and it was well worth waiting so many years to get it.

* * *

**The next morning…**

Willow stumbles into the kitchen, Oz not far behind her, both groping around for coffee until they actually find the pot and pour some for each other.

“Who knew Hodgins is so … chatty,” the werewolf sighs into his cup.

The Wicca is practically nursing her cup of caffeine; she has already inhaled more than half of her mug and considering refilling it.

“Remind me to sit down with Buffy and tell her he knows a few things as well,” Willow tells her boyfriend. “We need to keep track of them.”

“Made a list yet?” Oz teases her, enjoying how she blushes.

“Um, might have,” she tells him.

He is about to kiss her when the door to Buffy’s room opens and the blond Slayer stumbles out, doing everything she can to look like a zombie, dressed in a shirt that reaches mid thigh and is so obviously not hers. What makes the werewolf and the witch to stop and stare is the tall form of the Vampire known as Angel that came out of the room, in his boxers and looking more lively than all of them, non nocturnal species.

“Morning,” Buffy greets, taking some coffee and retreating back to the bedroom.

Angel heads for the fridge warms some blood and follows after Buffy, after nodding at them.

For a while Oz and Willow just sit there.

“Okay,” the werewolf mutters. “All’s fine on that front.”

Willow giggles. “I’m glad.”

“Just to make sure though, his soul is …”

“Just fine,” Willow assures Oz who nods and kisses her on the lips. “If you say so love.”

* * *

**End of chapter**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is as far as I got back when I first published chapter 8 on FFnet on 2/8/2012.


End file.
